


of the moonless nights

by desdemona (LydiaOfNarnia)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Biting, Blood Drinking, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mind Control, Superpowers, and they drink actual blood so yeah that happens, okay pretty much everyone is a vampire, slight gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-05-12 03:44:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 68,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5651332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaOfNarnia/pseuds/desdemona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukishima Kei ought to have known better than to wander into the woods alone at nightfall; legends of monsters that lurked in the night had long haunted his little village, originating centuries before he was even born. He'd always written these tales off as things of fiction; that is, until the night he comes face to face with a boy with too many freckles and fangs straight out of a monster legend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was an extremely rare occasion that Kei found himself wishing he’d listened to someone else. This was because what other people had to say was generally so tedious and/or stupid that Kei didn’t see the point in listening to them; not to mention, many times people were downright  _ wrong  _ and too stubborn to admit it. He got by in life just fine by figuring out his own path for himself, and by carefully ignoring all advice anyone else might deign to bestow while he did it.

Now, however, he found himself surprised -- in a dull, humorless sort of way that felt like getting kicked in the head by a boot -- to find that he really, really wished he had listened to his older brother. He could not count how many times he’d been warned not to go into the forest after nightfall.

“The Kyuuketsuki come out at night, you know,” Akiteru whispered to him once, years ago. His expression had been grave; his tone carried a sternness so unlike him that it had held Kei, just five at the time, captivated. “There are dozens of them, maybe even hundreds! They live off in a castle far out in the woods. They’re practically walking corpses -- their skin feels like ice, and they’re too pale to be alive. They never go out during the daytime -- they can’t, of course, because they would turn to dust. But when night falls, they wander the forests in search of unlucky travellers who managed to lose their way.”

“Wh- what happens then,  _ onii-chan?” _ Kei had questioned, wide-eyed and feeling far more unnerved by his brother’s tale than he’d like to admit. “What do the Kyuuketsuki do to the travellers?”

“Why, don’t you know?” His older brother had appeared confused, and Kei had suddenly felt very silly for not knowing the answer immediately, the way Akiteru always seemed to. That shame that had faded to horror at his brother’s next words. “They lure them back to the castle, pin them down, and drain  _ every last drop _ of their blood.”

Fairy stories, Kei knew now. They were no more and no less than silly tales meant to terrify village children and keep them from venturing into the woods late at night. It made sense. The woods at night were filled with  _ real  _ dangers such as fallen trees, nearly invisible holes in the ground that were all too easy to lose your footing in, and… well, damn him if there weren’t wolves as well.

This was why he shouldn’t have wandered so deep into the forest at night; but  _ he _ had been the one foolish enough to leave the gate open when feeding the horses in the first place, and wretched Nana had always been their fastest rider. He was unpleasantly reminded of this fact when the mare wound up bolting. Following her in heated pursuit had led Kei straight into the forest, which hadn’t looked all that menacing at the time -- not enough to give him pause before following the horse. It was much more unpleasant now that night had fallen, when he’d actually managed to not only lose the horse, but lose his own way as well.

Kei swore under his breath as he dodged another fallen tree limb, trying to ignore the stinging in his ankles from one too many scratches from branches he hadn’t been lucky enough to dodge. How irritating. How idiotic of  _ him _ , and that was probably the worst part. Knowing that he was responsible for this entire mess left a bitter taste in his mouth, and only caused him to glower around at the dark woods all the more furiously.

His fears at that moment were far from Kyuuketsuki and monsters. A much more pressing worry nagged at the forefront of his mind: whether or not he would be able to find his way back, or at least to a suitable shelter, before the temperature really dropped for the night.

He glanced with a scowl down at his calloused hands, now peppered with scratches from battling his way through thick brambles. Would his family have already realized that he was gone? It occurred to him vaguely that they might be looking for him right at that moment, wandering around the village with no clue just how far their son had really gone. Mother would be heavily bundled against the cold, calling Kei’s name fitfully while at probably not straying far from her precious horses. His father would likely go around the village for awhile, being met with denial after heart-sinking denial anytime he stopped to enquire about his son. As the sky continued to darken, sun seeming to turn its back on the village entirely as it always did in the harsh winter months come nightfall, he would feel his hopes begin to vanish. Worry would creep into his bones, paranoia nagging like a parasite at the back of his mind. Maybe then, after finally combing the village through, his attention might turn to the forest. But Akiteru, who would be right out there with him of course, would fervently deny it:  _ “No, Kei would  _ never _ go into the forest at night, he knows better than that!” _

He should have known better. He  _ did _ . If he managed to find his way back home in one piece, Kei decided -- offering this resolution up as if a promise to some incomprehensible, out-of-touch god -- he would never be so stupid as to venture into the forest at night again.

A shiver wracked his lanky frame, and hands rubbed furiously at his upper arms to conserve some warmth. The chill in the air grew heavier with each minute, and he wasn’t dressed for such weather. His hands were numb, and his feet were getting there too -- though there was a good chance that was just from walking for so long. Curling his lips in distaste at the whole situation, Kei fought back the sudden urge to just let out a shout in the middle of the woods -- just to see if someone, anyone, might be around to hear him. (He didn’t see  _ why  _ \-- he knew no one else was there. Save maybe a wolf or two, but that company he could do without.)

What a pathetic way to die, he thought suddenly -- breaking a rule that even little children had ingrained into their heads. If this was indeed the way Kei left this life, he would doubtlessly be turned into yet another cautionary tale alongside the Kyuuketsuki; one designed to frighten the young, one that after a few generations children probably wouldn’t even believe. Would he fade out of existence in the form of a ghost story, a phantom haunting the woods for as long as his story would last?

Such thoughts probably wouldn’t have even occurred to Kei had the danger of the situation not been pressing all the more persistently down upon him. It was growing later now; all light had long since vanished from the sky, and in spite of himself encroaching panic began to close Kei’s throat. He couldn’t  _ help  _ it. It was dark, his limbs were sore, the night air chilled him to the bone, and he couldn’t seem to stop shaking --

He wasn’t going to die here. He couldn’t leave his family like that, couldn’t leave behind the legacy of an urban legend, couldn’t freeze to death alone in the dark. He couldn’t die, he  _ couldn’t  _ die, he  _ didn’t want _ to die --

A glimmer of light out of the corner of his eye captured his attention.

At first he might have written it off as merely a reflection from his glasses -- likely, considering the moon seemed brighter than usual tonight. But no, this glow burned warm and steady, holding out for a few precious seconds before seeming to vanish. Kei blinked his eyes a few times, baffled; and then, it appeared again in the very same spot.

A firefly, he realized now; his own namesake. A flicker of a smile, more out of bitter amusement at such a coincidence than anything else, flashed across his face. Hardly realizing what he was doing, and certainly not knowing why, he found himself venturing towards the firefly’s glow.

He found himself disheartened when it inevitably blinked out once more; but then, just a few yards away, it appeared again. Once more, Kei was moving towards the light, and once more, it seemed to dance out of his reach. Then he broke into a run, hot in pursuit of the tantalizing flickers of  _ life  _ that at once seemed like his only companion in the world.

On and on he ran through the woods, fleeing the cold and the darkness, eyes fixed only on those bright little bursts of gold where they lingered for a few precious seconds before blinking away. Perhaps he was being led even further into the woods; but he wasn’t quite as ignorant to old legends as he liked to pretend to be. He’d heard stories of fireflies guiding lost and weary travelers back home. Even something as unlikely as that, so fantastic as to be called impossible -- well, maybe he needed a bit of the impossible right then.

So he ran. He ran and ran, pushing himself on through the darkness and uncertainty of the woods --

And then, he stopped.

He wasn’t home. Not by a long shot.

The tall, looming mansion that rose up out of the darkness looked like something straight out of a horror novel. As cliche as it sounded, the comparison was inescapable. Gothic archways rose up from the ground, vines tangled and creeping along stone walls. Each window towered higher than the last as Kei’s gaze followed them up; coming to the very top, presumably an attic, where a cracked window gazed down at the entire terrain and beyond. Up so high, one could probably see forever. The window panes were cracked in places, and the steps leading up to the front door looked rickety. Vines tangled up along the brick, stopping just before they could obstruct the doorway. The house did not look like something that had been built, so much as something that had grown out of the ground a long time ago and refused to be killed. It was certainly not a modern construction -- Kei might have even ventured to call it medieval. That wasn’t the point though, not really.

The mansion in the clearing, the light in the darkness; they were the same thing. Salvation. Hope. A chance at not freezing to death alone in a forest.

Kei took a step forward; and at once, his brother’s words from those long ago horror stories echoed in his head. “ _ There are dozens of them, maybe even hundreds; they live off in a castle far out in the woods... come nightfall they wander the forests in search of unlucky travellers who managed to lose their way...” _

Gritting his teeth, Kei subconsciously found himself cringing away from the house; and he could not suppress his annoyance. Typical Akiteru, always bothering him at the worst times, when he needed it the least.

He stared at the mansion in deliberation far longer than was probably reasonable. Only when this realization occurred to him did his mind finally cease pinballing between the possibilities of death via exposure and death via monsters. Narrowing his eyes, Kei took another determined step into the clearing. He wasn’t going to freeze tonight. He could care less if there were a thousand (non-existent) Kyuuketsuki in that mansion; they would just have to tolerate a house guest.

Only when he reached the heavy oak door (which shouldn’t have struck him as imposing as it did, considering Kei was nearly tall enough to bang his head on the doorframe) did it occur to him that even if there were no Kyuuketsuki in this mansion, someone else might live there. Appraisingly, he noted that it didn’t seem that run-down from the outside. Yet aside from the occasional rumor in town (mostly involving monsters), he could think of no one in his village, and probably not from the equally poor village on the other side of these woods, who could even  _ dream  _ of affording their own mansion. Where Kei came from, people lived with what little they were given and what they made for themselves; luxury was not an option.

Should he knock? Would that be stupid? What if no one answered? He couldn’t just walk in if someone lived there, that would be breaking and entering and that was  _ probably  _ illegal even in the middle of the woods --

Another unforgiving shiver ran through his frame, and Kei made the decision before he could talk himself out of it. He pushed open the door, slipped inside, and slammed it shut again.

He wasn’t sure exactly what he had been expecting to find inside the mansion; what seemed to be a fully maintained foyer came as an unpleasant surprise. Even in the darkness, he could make out that all the furniture, from the faded portraits of nature scenes hanging on the walls, to the small mahogany wood table sitting in the center of the room, seemed to be well-maintained, if a bit unused. The only truly strange thing was the fact that the basket of flowers arranged on the table seemed to have long since wilted and died. Even so, he could only take this state of maintenance to mean one thing; he wasn’t alone in this house.

This would have been the moment any rational person would probably have called out, announced his presence to whomever the occupants of the house may be. Kei Kei was _nothing_ if not a rational person; but he certainly wasn’t a person eager to be kicked out of the only place capable of offering him refuge, nor was he out for the wrath of an angry housekeeper to fall upon his head.

So instead of announcing himself, Kei simply… continued on in.

It wasn’t the best decision he’d ever made in his life. Then again, he couldn’t imagine it to be the worst (Akiteru could think of some pretty stupid dares when he tried hard enough, and when you are young going along with whatever dare your older sibling gives you is simply a matter of pride). He was far from an idiot. He would take a warm shelter over an icy forest any day.

Warm. He hadn’t noticed it immediately, but as he ventured further into the house -- slowly taking the stairs one at a time, conscious of any creaking in the old wood -- he could not help but observe that this place truly was  _ warm _ . Unusually warm for the winter, in fact -- it reminded him of his house in the dying weeks of summer, when Akiteru constantly tried to urge him out to play  _ “one last game of ball before winter” _ but Kei was more than content sitting inside with a book and his journal. How on earth could a dark old mansion be so well-heated when there wasn't a fireplace or furnace in sight?

If Kei had been hoping for a change in lighting once he got upstairs, he found himself sorely disappointed. The rest of the mansion, it seemed, was just as dark as it had appeared from the outside. More than once Kei had to stop himself from tripping over unseen ruts in the carpet, as if it had recently been upset by people running very fast down this very hallway. Eventually, seeing as he no longer felt in danger of freezing and in the interest of his own safety, he decided to move slowly, pausing every so often to examine some of the portraits on the walls.

Most were of nature scenes, but he could not help notice that there were many of birds as well -- large black birds, ravens, perhaps even crows. These seemed to fit in suitably with the gloomily empty atmosphere of the place; as did the solemn portrait of an old man with a drawn face, which seemed to hang in a very prominent position on the wall. 

A faint flicker of curiosity stirred in Kei’s chest, but he smothered it down. The man must be an ancestor of the house’s owners, no doubt, or maybe even the owner himself.

Come to think of it -- he paused in his tracks, listening carefully. Though his ears searched the lifeless silence around him with intense focus, he was unable to make out any sort of sound that could possibly indicate human life. The darkness around him concealed much, but he could discern no figure besides himself. All of his primary senses seemed to tell him that he was alone.

He had read in a book once, however, that human beings use more than the oft-spoken “five senses”; in reality, humans have many senses for many different purposes, each one different from the last. With a dawning sense of fear in his stomach, the realization was imminent. Kei was using more than his five senses, and he knew one thing for absolute certain; at that moment, he was definitely  _ not  _ alone.

Instinctively, his gaze flickered up to the portrait of the old man again; steely eyes bore into him, suddenly seeming far more alive and frightening that it had a second ago, and he was suddenly seized with the knowledge that he was not welcome here. He stumbled back until he wound up hitting the wall. Squeezing his eyes shut, he counted up to ten in his head before opening them again.

Everything was the same. The portrait’s unnerving glare was still fixed on him. The halls were still very dark, the air still hung heavy and warm around him; for all that Kei could see, he was alone --

“What are you  _ doing  _ here?”

The shriek that Kei let out was definitely not high pitched -- in fact, he’d hardly call it a shriek at all. Maybe a squeal, at most; but anyone would squeal, he figured, if they were “alone” in a pitch-dark hallway when suddenly something hissed into their ear.

Not something --  _ someone _ . He realized with a slow sinking feeling in his stomach as he turned around that although he could not see anyone, there was definitely someone there in the darkness with him.

“Who -- who’s there?” He was foolishly proud of how little his voice trembled, and the stern measure in his tone.

“Why are you here?” The same question again, and this time it was accompanied by a movement out of the corner of his eye; Kei’s unforgiving glare pierced the spot intently, and steadily he was able to make out a figure stepping from the darkness. The first thing he registered was  _ freckles  _ \-- and perhaps that was a foolish thing to notice at first glance, but dear god the boy’s face was absolutely  _ littered  _ with them. They crossed his nose, powdered his cheeks, and a few even ran down the sides of his pale neck. They gave the otherwise plain-looking stranger a somewhat unique look; and Kei wondered if it was just his imagination when he thought he saw the freckles sparkle a bit like stars in the faint light coming from the half-curtained hallway window.

The second most obvious thing was that this stranger was a boy -- young, probably Kei’s age, maybe a bit younger. Since Kei was only fifteen, he’d put the strange teenager at perhaps that age as well. He had scruffy, unkept hair that looked like it hadn’t been cut in too long. And then his eyes, brown eyes, wide and curious and  _ frightened _ , staring at him as if he was some sort of strange animal that had just wandered into his house --

Oh.

Of course. The kid looked scared because Kei had  _ literally just wandered into his house. _

“I --” 

What was he even supposed to say in this situation? Finding himself at a loss -- a place Kei certainly did not like to be -- he settled on just being blunt. “I was lost, and I came upon this place in the woods. It didn’t look like anyone else was here.”

“Oh.” The other boy’s voice was quiet, tentative. Kei couldn't see too much of his face in this light (aside from the freckles) but he could make out the fearful look that lingered on his round face. Afraid of him? “You can’t be here, though. It -- it isn’t safe.”

“It’s safer than freezing outside,” he pointed out. “I don’t know the way back to my village…” Slowly, the meaning behind the stranger’s words began to sink in. “Why… wouldn’t I be safe here?”

“Because… you can’t  _ be _ here!” There was a sharp new note of urgency to the kid’s voice now. Though Kei got the feeling he really didn’t want to, the stranger took another step out of the shadows and into the pale moonlight. “Please, you need to leave now! Before -- before…”

The boy’s train of thought seemed to derail as he paused and just stared at Kei. A shiver ran down the other boy’s spine, that lingering sense of dread increasing to now fill up his entire chest. Still, he’d be damned if he showed this stranger that he was scared. “Before what? What are you talking about?” He wasn’t being specific, skirting around something he clearly wanted to just come out and say, and behavior like that annoyed Kei. Why was this boy so shifty, and why did he seem almost afraid? Of what?

“Before the others wake up,” the boy murmured at last, wincing as if he’d said something he really wasn’t supposed to. “It’s still early, so they haven’t woken up yet, -- normally I’d be asleep too, but today’s a special day for me. Which is why you need to leave before they wake up, otherwise you’ll be in a lot of trouble!”

Wake up? It was probably around six o’clock at night, maybe a bit later. Who in their right mind would be asleep at a time like this? “I shouldn’t have let myself in… but it’s cold out. There’s nowhere else for me to go.”

“You can’t stay here!” the boy insisted, voice taking on a slightly hysterical edge now that it was clear he wasn’t being listened to; Kei didn’t fight the urge to roll his eyes. If he would just give him a definite reason as to  _ why _ , like that they had no spare beds, or the owner of this house has a shotgun and really doesn’t like visitors… but he was being  _ vague _ , frustratingly so, and Kei was growing frustrated. He didn’t like vague people; they annoyed him.

“I’ll sleep in the foyer.” Away from the heat of upstairs, but Kei was hardly picky. This boy couldn’t really kick him out, could he?

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

“It isn’t  _ safe _ .”

“Why not?”

“Because we --- because we’re  _ strangers  _ and you have no idea whose house this is and you  _ really  _ shouldn’t just walk into strangers’ houses and invite yourself to stay because that isn’t polite! And that’s why you need to leave!”

Finally they were getting somewhere, even if the kid did look as if he was trying desperately to weave a convincing lie together on the spot. Kei’s eye twitched, a slight reflex of irritation, before he put on his best polite (and hardly convincing) smile. 

“I’m sorry I let myself in. I’m Tsukishima Kei. May I  _ please  _ stay here tonight, or are you really going to turn me out to potentially die of exposure in the cold?”

“I can’t just --” Frustrated, the boy shrunk back into the shadows once more, dragging a hand through his messy hair. He let out a heavy sigh, and Kei half-hoped that he had frustrated the boy into just leaving him alone; but then, almost shyly, the voice spoke up again. “Tsukishima?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a nice name,” he muttered, eyes peering out at him from the darkness. “I’m Yamaguchi Tadashi.”

“Okay.” Kei really hoped that this wasn’t some sort of effort to make friends. He wasn’t exactly the friendly sort, obviously, and he had a feeling that this boy might annoy him with his twitchiness and reluctance to get to the point. “Hi. Do you have any spare rooms?”

“What?  _ No! _ You still can’t stay here!”

They were back to that again. Kei sighed.

“Where do you want me to  _ go _ , Yamaguchi?”

“I -- I -- I don’t  _ know _ …” The boy trailed off, sounding a bit dejected. Kei rolled his eyes again, not even caring if the boy could see him. “But it’s like I said, you have to get out of here before Daichi-san gets back or any of the others wake up! Usually in the mornings it’s just Daichi-san and Enno-”

His words cut off abruptly, with a soft squeak -- as if someone had just dumped a glass of ice water over his head. Morbidly curious, Kei peered into the darkness at him. He was just able to make out Yamaguchi’s eyes, wide and somehow even more frightened before. Kei was struck with the feeling that this boy had just remembered something horrible, something that really shouldn’t have escaped his memory in the first place. His lips moved, too; a tremor, a word hardly loud enough for Kei to make out.

_ “Ennoshita…” _

And suddenly Kei was pinned to the ground. He hadn’t expected it; he hadn’t even seen anyone coming, and his first thought was that it was Yamaguchi on top of him. Yet as he began struggling it became clear that the smaller boy couldn’t be the one holding him down with this much force; in spite of however much he fought, his assailant seemed to have the upper hand, practically crushing his shoulders under a relentless grip. Oh, and there was also the fact that Kei couldn’t see who was pinning him down because  _ no one was there _ .

As far as he could see, he was being restrained by pure nothingness; yet as he kicked and squirmed under the powerful force of a body on top of his, it was obvious that  _ someone  _ was there. Yamaguchi finally jumped out of the shadows fully, eyes wide in a panicked face and hands flailing helplessly at his sides.

“Ennoshita, don’t! Daichi-san will kill you! Stop! Don’t hurt him!”

And before Kei even had a chance to process the invisible man on top of him, the figure was suddenly invisible no longer; and he was at once met with of person hovering inches away from his face. Dark hair, he noted automatically, seeing his attacker for the first time; eyes that might have been sleepy-looking if they weren’t now narrowed and boring into him with such intensity; and a face twisted up into a fearsome expression.

“Keeping secrets, Yamaguchi? I know it’s your birthday, but this is hardly fair, is it?”

Ennoshita might have had a calm voice, Kei decided, if he had been in any way calm right now. At that moment, however, his words were practically a snarl; and it was then that Kei realized in exactly what way the other boy was staring at him. 

Ennoshita was glaring down at him with the same glint in his eyes that Akiteru had whenever he caught a glimpse of their mother’s homemade sashimi. As this knowledge dawned in Kei’s eyes, it had to have shown, for Ennoshita’s lips peeled back to reveal a smile, as dark and twisted as the rest of his face; but the thing that stood out the most to Kei was the set of sharp incisors sticking out from among Ennoshita’s otherwise orderly row of teeth. Unnaturally sharp incisors, and at once Akiteru’s stories were called back into his mind again.

Wide golden eyes flashed between the drooling boy on top of him and Yamaguchi, standing over the pair with a frantic look on his face. “Y- y- you’re…  _ Kyuuketsuki _ …”

“Sur _ prise!” _

This voice came from behind him, and with a dawning horror Kei realized that with each passing second more and more Kyuuketsuki seemed to be surrounding them. Two descended from the ceiling, shifting from bat to human in mid-air only to land neatly on their feet. A figure with a twisted grin and monk’s haircut shoved Ennoshita off, muttering something about  _ “not getting first bite”. _ In a second Kei was on his feet, panting. His heart pounded an erratic rhythm in his chest, straining against his ribcage as he took in the crowd now surrounding him -- at least ten people, all crammed into one hallways and peering at him like he was the next thing on the menu.

His eyes flickered around the circle, widening even more as they fell on each Kyuuketsuki. From a tall man cowering against the wall away from him, trembling with what Kei could only assume was barely suppressed hunger; a bespectacled girl whose dark hair hung unsettlingly in her face, her shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath; a small statured boy whose eyes should not have been glowing as brightly as they were, matching an electric blonde streak in his hair; even to Yamaguchi himself, whose eyes were -- like all the others -- fixed on Kei. In Yamaguchi’s face, however, he did not find the hunger he’d come to expect; only what looked like a desperate apology. Inevitably, though, Kei found his gaze drawn to one boy in particular, with hair that seemed to shine bright orange even in the dark, half-hidden behind a taller boy as he eyed Kei with a mixture of desperation and fear clouding his gaze.

“K- Kageyama…” Redhead’s voice was raspy, trembling. “Why does he smell so good?”

“Because he’s  _ human _ , dumbass,” retorted the taller boy, who seemed to just be glowering at Kei -- why did his gaze seem to be the most unsettling? “None of us have eaten for a month, so we’re all starving.”

“D- D- Daichi-san said…” The small blonde girl was obviously trying to restrain herself, but somehow Kei felt less than comforted. “He would bring back food soon…”

“He’s been gone for days,” retorted short boy with the blond streak, seeming half ready to pounce. His posture reminded Kei of a coil, seconds away from snapping. “Why wait? We have food  _ now _ .”

“Where’s Suga-san?” someone asked, and another voice replied with a careless, “Who knows?” but at this point Kei’s head was spinning. There were too many people, too many  _ monsters  _ surrounding him, all of whom were apparently dead-set on  _ eating  _ him. His mind replayed flashed on his conversation with Yamaguchi, echoes of his brother’s haunting tales, overlain with images of Ennoshita’s dripping fangs and the image of himself as nothing more than a bloodless husk on the ground…

He felt sick. He felt sick, and dizzy, and once again he found his gaze being drawn by the boy who seemed to shine like the sun. His eyes were  _ huge _ , Kei realized now; and there was something that seemed to be sparkling in them. At once, he couldn’t make it out, and through the pounding in his head and dizziness of his vision he wondered if there was something wrong with his glasses; but then it dawned on him with all the force of a wave breaking over the shore that those were  _ fireflies  _ in the redhead’s eyes.

Fireflies… he felt his vision lock on them, lock on those eyes, and suddenly the world around him seemed far less consequential. The fireflies…

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. He was drowning in those eyes, swimming with the fireflies, and he felt surprisingly… numb. As if all the feelings in his mind, in his heart, had been drained away at once and he’d been left with nothing but… emptiness. It should have felt wrong, and maybe it would have if he’d been able to feel anything at all; but as it was, he  _ couldn’t feel it _ . 

He heard the yell that suddenly tore from the redhead’s throat, but he didn’t really register it. He went down passively, without so much as a struggle. Even as he felt something sharp sink into his carotid artery and suddenly a sucking sensation drawing the blood from his body he found that he simply… didn’t care.

And then everyone was on top of him at once; the two girls both seized his feet, draining the major arteries he vaguely remembered from his textbooks as being located there, the large man and little fireball with the blonde streak shared his arm, monk-cut guy was at his knee… where was Yamaguchi again?

Kei couldn’t see him. Huh. How annoying. And despite the fact that he wasn’t really feeling much of anything right then, he actually felt what might have been a flicker of disappointment at the fact that he would not be able to see those freckles that shimmered like stars again. He had always liked stars, even when they seemed so far out of reach... was his eyesight getting darker, or had his glasses just broken again? God, he hoped not, his mother would kill him.

In the background he could hear someone yelling, and suddenly he felt some of the pressure begin to fade away; on his neck, on his arms, on his legs, and he suddenly felt much lighter before. His eyes flickered to the side, and for some reason came to land again on Yamaguchi.

He had been standing against the wall, apparently, but now Kei found him pressed to the ground on his hands and knees; he looked like he was praying, he realized dimly, and as he looked around he realized that everyone else -- save for that very angry looking boy from before -- was in the exact same position. How strange. They looked so funny that he almost felt like smiling….

Were those more voices? He wasn’t sure… but suddenly there were cool hands pressed to his face, and when he looked up he was met with a halo of silver. A sudden calmness seemed to fall over him at once, replacing the incomprehensible numb feeling. Kei faintly realized that his mouth had curved up in a faint smile. He felt good… calm…  _ sleepy… _

_ “Everything will be okay,”  _ whispered the angel.  _ “I’m very sorry this happened to you, but you’ll be alright.” _

He was glad he wasn’t out in the cold anymore, he thought as his eyes slipped shut. Hopefully his family wouldn’t be too worried…

For the first time that night, the dark didn’t bother him.


	2. Chapter 2

He slept fitfully, half convinced that his body was on fire. Brief moments of consciousness were hazy, peering through a fogged mirror to catch half-glimpses of something baffling and uncertain. Through the cracks in the glass, Kei dreamed.

* * *

_ Laying on his back in the middle of an open field, he found himself consumed by the sweet scent of spring. Wind tousled his hair gently, brushing past his face with all the gentleness of a caress. He was unable to restrain a sigh of content at the peacefulness of it all. He used to imagine places like this when he was younger -- quiet places, places where there was no reason to feel anything. Now, lying in the grass, surrounded by nature and staring up at the sky, he wondered if he had finally found it. The gentle sound of soft humming reverberated in his ears, and faintly the memory of his mother flashed through his mind… _

* * *

“Suga, we can't keep him here.”   
  
“Why not? Everyone has fed on what you brought back. We can't send him home like this. We'd have a whole village out for our heads. He needs to rest, and recover.”   
  
“The others won't like it. They attacked him before…”

“Then the others can stay away from him if it bothers them so much. If they were too hungry to control themselves, they deserve to face the consequences.”

“... are you sure about this?”   
  
“I'm positive. If you don't want to bear this responsibility, then let it be mine. Daichi, he's just a boy.”

* * *

_ "For the love of the gods, boy, what were you thinking!” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ His father's voice was twisted, wrung thin with fear and agony. Kei had never heard his father sound like that, never in his life. He swallowed past the lump suddenly blocking his throat, hanging back even as his parents rush forwards towards the figure staggering past the treeline. At first Akiteru had seemed to be fleeing from something in the woods; but as he caught sight of his parents racing towards him, his pace let up into unsteady, staggering steps. As soon as his mother reached him, Akiteru crumpled into her arms. There was something dark and red coating his neck, staining the fabric of his shirt. His mother turned slightly, and beneath Akiteru’s head Kei glimpsed stark crimson smeared upon the pale yellow of her dress. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “He's hurt!” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Their father promptly scooped his son up into his arms, as if he were not quite a seventeen year old and still no more than a toddler. Akiteru’s eyes flashed to the side, somehow managing to lock onto Kei’s own. If the boy hadn’t been frozen in fear before, the clear sight of his brother’s face felt like a sword-slash to the neck. The shock was real; the pain was sudden and sharp, cutting into him and briefly robbing him of breath. _ _   
_ _   
_ __ Akiteru’s face was pale; his eyes were dull and hollow. He looked drained, lifeless, nothing like the strong brother Kei had always known. Kei’s brother was tall and powerful, hearty and afraid of nothing. He was not this trembling, small creature in their father’s arms, blood leaking from his neck and onto the autumn-browned grass.

_ Kei had imagined his older brother to be invincible. He had been wrong. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He had figured Akiteru was not foolish, knew better than to put himself at needless risk. He had been wrong. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He had assumed that his older brother would never have gone into the forest at night. He had been wrong. _ _   
_ _   
_ __ And just like that, Kei’s world shattered.

* * *

“... when I was younger, a neighbor of ours had this huge dog -- it had to be twice the size of a man, bigger than any dog I’ve ever seen. He was wild! He was always running around town, chasing people and upsetting other animals. And since I was really small as a kid, I remember being absolutely terrified that one day this dog was just going to snap and swallow me whole. I guess... I might be more of a cat person? Cats are just easier. They'll be more than happy to leave you alone when you want it, as long as you leave them alone in return. People are kind of like cats, I think -- well, except for mean people. You seem like you’d be a cat person, maybe...”   
  
He shifted. There was a fire under his skin, searing his insides and burning his flesh to a crisp. He could feel his blood boiling in his veins, filling his chest with heat and burning up his lungs. Before he could stop himself, a groan slipped from his lips.

The voice that had been carrying on steadily for what seemed like years finally cut itself off. The silence seemed even more palpable to his fevered brain, and he actually found himself missing the noise. It had been monotonous, but not unpleasant to listen to; in the way one listens to a song in another language without understanding a single word.   
  
Something smooth and cool glanced over his forehead, brushing away the sheen of moisture gathered there. Kei’s eyes opened a crack only to be met with a deep brown gaze peering down at him -- wide and earnest, so close that he was able to dimly note the presence of light freckles dancing over the eyelids.   
  
_ Freckles… _ __   
  
“Soon,” whispered the voice that the eyes had to belong to, and just as quickly as he’d felt it the coolness on his forehead seemed to vanish. Along with it, Kei’s consciousness began to slip back into the same burning darkness he had just risen out of.   
  
“Soon you'll be able to tell me all about who you are... and then you won't have to listen to me talk so much.”   
  
He didn't mind the talking. He might have even liked it a bit.   
  
“Anyways, umm... my family had a cat once…”

* * *

_ He was still in the meadow, still in the same grassy place that he had managed to find refuge; but for the life of him, he was unable to understand why gravity wasn't working correctly. He couldn't seem to keep his hold on the ground. Try as he did, the sky evermore seemed to drag him up. His body was rising from the grass, being pulled higher and higher towards the cloudless starry night. One hand clutched tightly around a handful of weeds, his final stubborn tether to the ground below him; but the rest of his body was suspended, hanging in the air and reverberating with an energy Kei couldn't begin to comprehend. Stardust floated around him, illuminating him in his entirety. Every time he moved, the glow around him only seemed to grow more brilliant. _ _   
_ _   
_ __ His gaze drifted towards the sky, and he was immediately taken aback by the stars; up there in hundreds, thousands, illuminating the otherwise inky black night and calling to him.

* * *

The moment that his eyes opened again, Kei was able to discern two things: he was no longer dreaming, and he was no longer feverish.   
  
Of course, he still felt like absolute hell. His body ached as if it had been thoroughly crushed and compressed into a tiny ball, and was now only beginning to straighten itself out again. Every joint reverberated with pulses of pain; his head was pounding as his eyes flickered across a wooden ceiling; and he could not ignore the feeling of something else being  _ not right. _

He wasn't sure who was more surprised when he turned his head and wound up staring straight into the face of a startled Yamaguchi.

“You're awake,” was the first thing out of the other boy’s mouth.

“You bit me,” was the first thing out of Kei’s.

Almost immediately, the look of surprise on the boy’s face morphed into panic -- an unsubtle attempt to cover up the fact that Yamaguchi was internally freaking the hell out. Which by all logic was what  _ he _ should be doing, not the other way around; only one of them had almost been murdered by Kyuuketsuki recently, after all, and it  _ wasn’t _ Yamaguchi.

He could freak out, he supposed. He really  _ ought to _ be freaking out right now. He had just been attacked by Kyuuketsuki, creatures of the night -- he had almost been killed. Anyone else in his position (a more simpleminded person) would have been completely panicked right about now. He couldn't do that, however. Losing his head now would be too  _ easy _ ; and he would be putting himself in a state of even greater vulnerability. He didn’t seem to be in immediate danger now, so his first priorities were to remain calm and keep the upper hand in the conversation with Yamaguchi.

Who was still stammering as if he’d forgotten how to operate his mouth. “I -- umm -- I di -- I me --  _ uhhh.” _

Had he  _ broken _ him? How troublesome.

Yamaguchi visibly swallowed, fighting to regain control of his delinquent vocal chords. “That wasn't me! I mean… I never… bit you.”

His head was turned away, so Kei wasn't able to catch a clear glimpse of the other boy’s face to perhaps figure out what sorts of thoughts were running through his head. Aside from the bashful reaction, all he was left with were Yamaguchi’s words. It was difficult to recall the incident, but not impossible -- though it made his head pound harder still. Up until the silver halo and blurry darkness, Kei’s memory was pretty clear; the image of Yamaguchi, on his knees, body pressed to the ground, remained sharp in his mind. Had there been blood on his mouth?

_ No. _ There hadn't been. Kei’s narrowed eyes shifted back to the boy.

“I’ll just --” Abruptly Yamaguchi rose from the chair he had been sitting in, lined up carefully alongside Kei’s futon. “I'll go tell him you're awake.”

“Tell who?”

“Sugawara-san! He's the one who's been looking after you since what happened… happened. He's really nice, I think you'll like him, and he'll be able to tell you a lot more than I can, so I'll just go -- get him. Right now.”

He was left blinking at the way the boy rushed out of the room, barely remembering to close the door behind him before he'd vanished. Had he made Yamaguchi nervous? Scared him? Kei  _ supposed _ he could have that sort of effect on people, especially when he wasn't in one of his better moods -- and after being attacked and drained of blood, his mood wasn’t great.

Absently, his hand drifted up to run his fingers over the bandage that had been apparently placed over his neck while he was sleeping. Another clump of gauze rested in the crook of his elbow; he dully wondered just how many other spots on his body had needed to be bandaged up.

The room he was in was small, composed of wooden floors and pale, plain wallpaper whose color seemed to have faded with the years. Aside from the futon that seemed to have been carefully arranged to accommodate him, the only other furniture was an empty bookcase against the far wall and a bare wooden table balanced in the corner.

Kei was just about to begin musing on the hideous shade of yellow the wallpaper had faded to when the door cracked open. Immediately, his attention honed in on the newcomer.

He would be honest in saying that Sugawara was nothing like he had been expecting. For what seemed to be the leader, or perhaps one of the leaders, of a group of vampires, Kei had anticipated someone more… physically intimidating, to begin with. But the young man standing in front of him was of average height and build, exceedingly pale, with silvery hair and dark eyes that nevertheless seemed to exude something warm. Sugawara’s entire manner seemed comforting, placating, and at once Kei found himself feeling more at ease in his unfamiliar surroundings.

“Hello,” Sugawara greeted him with a smile. “I’m very glad to see you awake. How are you feeling, Tsukishima-kun?”

His lips quirked downwards at the so-casual use of his name. Yamaguchi had to have given the information out, which was reasonable under the circumstances; but that didn’t mean Kei was pleased by the development. It took him aback, leaving him feel more exposed to these strangers, and he disliked that. He was still trying to gather his bearings as it was.

Either Sugawara was incredibly perceptive or had the ability to read minds (oh god, Kei hoped not) because he chuckled slightly, lowering himself into the chair Yamaguchi had just vacated and inclining his head in a polite downwards tilt. “Sorry -- you can’t be feeling all that great, can you? You must be pretty confused about where you are, too. I’m Sugawara Koushi; it’s nice to meet you. Though it could be under better circumstances.”

Subconsciously, Kei’s hand drifted up to the bandages on his neck again. “You patch up wounds well. You must have experience.”

Sugawara ‘hmm’ed, a gentle shrug accompanying the noncommittal reply. “I used to study medicine. I still remember a thing or two!”

“Used to… until?”

“Until circumstances changed.” Sugawara offered him another smile -- he smiled too much, Kei noted, only this time the smile was all teeth and he was clearly showing off his visibly pointed incisors. The memory, faded but present, of feeling needle-sharp teeth sink into the side of his neck suddenly rose up through the fog of other memories that Kei was trying hard not to think about at the moment. He did his best to restrain a shudder.

“Anyway --” As shameless about his condition as he seemed to be, it was clear that Sugawara had more important things on his mind. “Like I said -- you have to be confused. This is all new to you, isn’t it?” 

That was putting it mildly. Kei’s eyes lingered on him for a moment before flickering away. Sugawara had something in his gaze that made one feel as if he were seeing right through you, decoding every one of your motivations in the nicest way possible; it was unnerving. Sugawara, either unable to take hints or just an annoyingly persistent person (Kei would guess it to be the latter), pushed on anyway. 

“You’ve probably heard the stories -- about monsters in the woods, blood-suckers out to drain weary travellers dry. But none of those were real, right? They couldn’t be. None of it could be possible -- until it is.”

Kei wished he would stop smiling. Seeing Sugawara smile so much was beginning to give him the alarming urge to smile too -- and he hardly  _ ever _ smiled, unless the situation involved mocking someone else.

“Surely you thought that too,” he muttered, once more unwilling to meet Sugawara’s gaze. “Before you became… what you are.”

“You can say it,” the other chuckles. “A Kyuuketsuki. A blood-sucker. A  _ ‘vampire’ _ , as the English call it, but my pronunciation is probably off. It isn’t a taboo. If I hadn’t accepted what I am by now…” He trails off, voice taking on a slightly higher note. “And believe me, I’ve had my time to accept it. I haven’t been human in so long that I actually can’t remember how I felt about Kyuuketsuki before.”

He glances up again -- a quick, hesitant glance that lasts only for a second. Sugawara doesn’t look a day over twenty -- if that. Just how old is he?

“I was changed, maybe… seventy years ago.” He breathes out a sigh, half amused, half incredulous. “Has it really been that long?”

“You don’t age.”

“No. We stay the way we looked when we were turned, forever.”

Kei fell silent for a moment, allowing this information to sink in. Eternal youth, for the price of… what? Draining the blood from humans? It seemed like a bit of a depressing deal to him. Then again, he’d never been one for making agreements he didn’t have the upper hand in. Being a Kyuuketsuki certainly didn’t seem like the most glamorous lifestyle, now that he thought about it. Living isolated from society, struggling to feed yourself, having to become a killer just to survive…

A sudden realization hit Kei with all the force of a blow to the chest, and his breath seemed to stall in his lungs as he promptly snapped back to look up at Sugawara again. “I was bitten… so does that mean that I’m… I’m one of…”

“A Kyuuketsuki?” Sugawara chuckled. “Oh, no. Don’t worry about that. Transformation is a much more… intensive process. It takes a lot more than a few sporadic bites, so don’t worry. You’re perfectly human.”

He must have seen the doubt lingering on Kei’s face, doubt the ‘human’ boy couldn’t entirely push away. Reaching down, he took one of Kei’s hands in his own. With fingers so cool to the touch that they actually sent shivers running down his spine, Sugawara gently guided Kei’s hand to hover over his pale wrist.

“Feel,” he urged gently, and Kei obeyed. Aside from the icyness of Sugawara’s skin, he could pick up nothing; no flow of blood, no steady pulsing of a heartbeat. Sugawara did not have a pulse, Kei realized, because he was dead. He had been dead for seventy years.

“Now, you,” prompted Sugawara, and Kei automatically moved to feel his own wrist. It took a few seconds to locate it, but the steady and reassuring pulse he found there caused tension he hadn’t even realized he’d been harboring to slide from his shoulders.

“It would have been impossible for us to send you back to your village in the state you were in. So we kept you with us. I changed your bandages, worked you through the fever that comes after being attacked by our kind, and waited. That was all we could do. You managed the rest on your own.”

“How long has it been?” A sinking sensation settled in his gut even as he said the words. His parents were going to be  _ furious _ , weren’t they?

Sugawara hesitated. “Three days. Maybe. I’d say about that, but we’ve already established that timekeeping isn’t my strong suit.” Another chuckle, and it was annoying just how  _ warm _ someone who was so icy cold to touch could make Kei feel. It wasn’t any sort of attraction, that much he was sure of, or embarrassment of any kind -- Sugawara was just so  _ comforting _ , so safe, that one could not help feeling the same way around him. It was almost unusual, Kei realized, and memories of a silver halo accompanied by an intense, drowsy calmness suddenly recalled themselves in his head…

“You’d be better off asking Yamaguchi,” Sugawara was continuing. “He’s been a great help to me. He stayed with you a lot of the time you were unconscious, too, helping nurse your fever down. I think he felt a bit guilty over what happened, but he is very helpful. He’d know how long it’s been, but I  _ think _ it’s been three days…”

“What else can you do?”

The question was so sudden that Sugawara lifted his head sharply, startled out of his musing on the passing of days. A flicker of something almost like amusement crossed his eyes, and Kei smothered down the nagging realisation that he had been  _ right _ .

“Well, besides the eternal youth, and the blood drinking --” (no one should be able to say that so casually) “all Kyuuketsuki have different abilities. None are exactly the same; and the strength of these abilities varies both by age and how hard you’ve worked to hone them. Me, I’m… pretty unremarkable.” He tilted his head slightly, looking down at Kei with what was now definitely an amused light in his eyes. “I’ve been told I create a sense of calm -- I can soothe people, make them feel better. It ranges from just a brief euphoria to being able to put someone into a trance entirely -- it’s not really something I can control. It happens naturally. But my power is only really potent when I hone it, so otherwise I suppose all I do is make people feel a bit… happier.”

He didn’t speak of this power as if it were anything to be ashamed of; and, perhaps in the world of Kyuuketsuki, being able to subtly alter someone’s state of mind for the positive wasn’t all that unusual. But to Kei, the sheer possibilities of what could be done with a power such as Sugawara’s -- from subtle manipulation, to being able to totally entrance victims into a state of euphoria while their very lifeblood was being drained from them -- came as a cold shock to an otherwise overloaded system. He half-wanted to act on the urge to bury his face back in the pillow and just grunt in reply to whatever else anyone might have to bother him with; but he guessed that if he did that, Yamaguchi might freak out again and Sugawara would probably just chuckle at him, which would be  _ worse _ than anything else. So his only response was his lips pressing into a thin line, accompanied by a monotone murmur of  _ “interesting.” _

Sugawara, thankfully, seemed to accept this reply. Clapping his hands together lightly, he stood; he wore yet another smile that was certainly meant to be reassuring, but in light of his most recent revelation only made Kei’s stomach turn a bit.

“If you’re feeling well enough to walk around, feel free! You don’t have to worry about anyone attacking you. I’m sorry again that such a thing happened, but the urges are very difficult to control when you haven’t eaten for a while… it might be difficult for you to understand, but we are good people, Kei. Everyone involved feels awful about what happened to you, and had they been in their right minds at the time it never would have. The impulses can be difficult to contr--"

"When can I go home?" The question was blunt, sudden, cutting off Sugawara in his tracks; Kei didn't feel bad about interrupting, however. This was the real heart of the matter, wasn't it?

Sugawara frowned for a moment, looking thoughtful. "It might be best if you didn’t go home immediately. Wait until morning -- or, at least, for one of us to accompany you tomorrow night, so you don’t risk getting lost again. But really, come out soon… only if you’re feeling up to it. If not, that’s perfectly understandable, but please know that you are  _ safe _ here, Kei." 

These last words were spoken with such earnestness, such unabashed emotion on his face, that even in spite of the mistrust he had for this man (mostly his powers) Kei could not help but believe it, even a  _ tiny _ bit. 

Whether Sugawara sensed this or not was anyone's guess, but his lips quirked up slightly, and he seemed relieved. "I’ll leave you alone for now.”

Kei’s eyes followed Sugawara as he opened the door, studying his retreating back. He could not help but feel a brief flicker of relief that he was going to be alone once more. Sugawara was far from unpleasant company, but his power was… unnerving, and frankly a bit more than Kei could handle right now. All he really wanted to do was get a bit more sleep… and maybe wake up in the morning in his own bed, to find that this had all been some sort of bizarre dream.

When Sugawara glanced over his shoulder again, Kei paused in rearranging his blankets to make himself more comfortable. “By the way,” the other boy chirped lightly, “don’t be surprised if Yamaguchi pays you another visit tonight. He mentioned getting you something to eat, and I actually think he’s grown a bit attached to you while you’ve been an invalid.” With that, this baffling, obnoxious, annoyingly nice ninety year old vampire had the audacity to wink -- to actually  _ wink _ \-- at him.

Before Kei could even begin to comprehend what that sort of gesture could have  _ meant, _ his chance slipped out of his grasp. The door closed. Sugawara was gone. Kei was finally alone.

Giving into what his body had been urging practically from the moment he’d woken up, he allowed his face to flop down against his pillow, and let out a long groan.

Why did the most troublesome things always seem to happen to  _ him? _

* * *

 

He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep. Maybe it had only been an hour or so; or hell, maybe he had slept through another entire day. His head certainly felt foggy enough when he lifted it again, the gentle sound of a closing door rousing him from his light slumber. He cracked open his eyes, fully expecting to see Yamaguchi or maybe even Sugawara standing over him with some inappropriately perky greeting at the ready. Instead, he was met with nothing.

Nothing besides a small plate of… cookies?

Perhaps it had been exhaustion, or the sheer effects of blood loss, but he hadn't realized just how hungry he was until he saw the food sitting right in front of him. Sugawara must have forced water on him during his fever; but food had been out of the question. He didn't hesitate a second before stuffing one of the cookies into his mouth, and at once he felt a newfound understanding of how the other Kyuuketsuki must have felt when they saw him.

Chocolate chip cookies, he observed through bites; freshly baked, obviously, and  _ good. _ No, these were more than good -- they were fantastic!

In his haste to eat he didn't even notice the note until most of the cookies were gone. Perhaps that had been the idea, as it was set carefully halfway under the plate, so that he wouldn't have noticed it at first glance. His appetite somewhat appeased, he carefully plucked the folded stationery from the ground and allowed his eyes to scan the messy handwriting.

_ Tsukishima-kun, _

_          I hope you enjoy the cookies! They were a joint effort -- Asahi-san and Yachi are our two best bakers, and they both really wanted to make amends for what happened before. Hope you like chocolate chip!  _

_       Suga-san told me he invited you to come down. I understand if you don't feel up to it, but everyone would really like to meet you -- and apologize, if you'd let them. I promise that you'll be safe as long as Daichi-san and Suga-san are here! _

_         Come down if you want. We have more food. _

_                        Yamaguchi _

Kei didn't want to go down. He  _ really _ didn't. He didn't feel like facing the people who had nearly killed him, apologetic as they may be, and he certainly was not eager to be assaulted with a barrage of frantic apologies that he just knew would come his way if he took one step out of this room.

However, if there was one thing he wanted more than anything else in that moment, it was food.

Heaving a long suffering sigh, he tentatively pushing himself into a sitting position. It seemed as if the decision had been made for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do love Suga so much, guys. Just so, so much.
> 
> THANK YOU for all the support this story has been getting! Oh my gosh, over sixty kudos, in... what? Three days? Never before has one of my stories found this much popularity, and I'm so glad people are reading and enjoying this! Please comment if you like the story, comment if you hate it, comment if you have advice or tips or even if you really just liked this one line, because comments only spur me to write even faster; and I do want to give you guys the best story I can. So thank you all so much, and I hope you enjoy the rest of this fic -- because I promise it's gonna be a good one.


	3. Chapter 3

He couldn't be sure what he was expecting the moment he stepped out of the little room that had served as his sanctuary for the last few days. A house of Kyuuketsuki could have held anything in store for him; he didn’t know how they lived, what their daily habits were, or whatever they did while they weren't busy draining the lifeblood from humans. He stood the risk of being confronted with anything upon stepping into the hallway, from another violent attack to a dancing circus bear.

What he hadn't been expecting, however, was to be met with the lone figure of a small blonde girl -- the same blonde girl whom he could vaguely recall from “the incident” -- standing with her back towards him at the end of the hall, staring down out of a heavily curtained window.

For an instant, her presence stopped Kei cold. He could still remember with stark clarity the feeling of fangs on his skin. This girl didn’t have the natural benefit Sugawara seemed to have of being  _ actually impossible _ to fear. He didn’t know if he should be wary or not, whatever Yamaguchi and Sugawara might have told him; so he did the most logical thing, and cautiously cleared his throat.

Immediately the girl jumped, spinning around so fast that even Kei felt his heart leap. Her eyes locked on him, brief bafflement sparking into recognition. Then, with a sharp squeak of alarm, the girl dove behind the heavy damask curtain and out of sight.

Kei was… baffled by the response, to say the least. So maybe he was pretty tall, and still not in a great mood, but did he really look that intimidating? A small, malicious part of him found such a reaction amusing; but for the most part, he was just confused. For a long moment he stared at the very distinct lump behind the curtain before taking another cautious step. The old floors gave a creak under his weight. The girl let out another squeak, seeming to cringe back even more as if she were trying to melt into the curtain.

“I wouldn’t lean against that window so much,” Kei remarked in a mild tone, deciding that whatever this girl’s problem was, he  _ really _ didn’t want to know about it. “The glass looks pretty old…”

Immediately the girl sprang forward, scrambling out from behind the curtain as if mere proximity to the glass would take her down with it if it were to somehow shatter. Brown orbs flickered desperately between the unimpressed boy before her and the perilous window behind her. She was clearly caught between a rock and a hard place.

“Which way is the kitchen?” requested Kei, tone bland.

The girl stared, gape-mouthed, for a drawn out moment before slowly raising a shaking finger to point down the hallway to her right. “G- go all the way down, and then take the stairs to the bottom floor. There are… more cookies. If you want some.”

“Did you bake them?”

His inquiry was met with a somewhat frantic nod, chin bobbing like a novelty shop figurine. “I helped.”

“They were good,” he remarked mildly, sweeping past the girl with barely a glance as he followed the hallway according to her instructions. The mansion was clearly just as big as he’d judged it from the outside; it wasn’t difficult to imagine numerous people living here at once. He could feel the girl’s eyes boring into his back as he walked away, but he didn’t bother turning around.

The bottom floor held such a different atmosphere to the heavy, encompassing silence one on top that for a moment Kei wondered if he had not crossed through some sort of portal while descending the stairs, winding up in a different house entirely. Aside from being much colder down here (something he had noticed before) when he stepped into the foyer he was immediately struck by how much more  _ energy _ seemed to be reverberating through this floor of the house.

From some room not far off, rowdy shouts -- something like,  _ “give me the book, Ryuu!” _ drowned out by laughter and louder, much more gleeful cries of  _ “it’s Chikara’s diary, it’s Chikara’s diary!” _ \-- seemed to reverberate throughout the whole house. Kei’s narrowed eyes drifted down the nearest hallway towards what he assumed was the kitchen. This was deduced via the steady rectangle of golden light shining against the wall revealing the dark shadow of a figure who seemed to be moving around inside. Half out of curiosity but mostly out of hunger, Kei ventured towards the light of the kitchen and poked his head around the doorframe.

He had been right -- it was the kitchen. He wasn’t sure if what caught his eye first was the plate of chocolate chip cookies sitting in the center of the marble counter or the large figure darting back and forth from one side of the room to the other. The stranger's attention seemed to be divided between making some sort of soup and checking up on a steadily boiling kettle. Kei, meanwhile, was completely focused on the food.

Careful not to make his presence known to the large man-- a familiar face as well, though Kei couldn’t recall him as clearly as he had the girl -- he slipped into the kitchen, sidling up to the counter and immediately stuffing an entire cookie into his mouth before anyone could stop him. He was starving -- and still weak from blood loss, or so he figured. No one on earth could blame him.

It was a few moments before the stranger noticed that he was no longer alone in his kitchen -- moments that Kei took full advantage of to observe the Kyuuketsuki at work. Clearly he wasn't  _ used _ to cooking. He hovered anxiously over the soup, as if one step too far away would cause the entire pot to go up in flames. It was a bit amusing, seeing such an imposing figure be so fretful over soup, of all things; Kei guessed that the man had to be almost as tall as him, and twice as muscular. He definitely appeared older than Sugawara, ruddy skinned, with chestnut hair tied up in a messy bun at the back of his head, with a brushing of stubble on his chin that seemed to add to his “menacing” appearance. (He would have pulled it off better if he managed to get rid of the worried furrow to his brow.)

When the man did finally turn, eyes catching on Kei leaning against the counter and impassively munching a cookie, he looked almost as startled as the girl from earlier -- for a second, Kei feared a repeat of “the curtain debacle”. Thankfully, though it seemed to take a few seconds, this man regained his composure enough to speak.

“Oh -- hi. Suga told us you might come down, so I was sort of expecting you -- the first place you’d go after not eating for so long is for food, right? That’s what I’d do…”

“Yes,” said Kei, absently tumbling at the bandage over his neck. “Food.”

The man must have taken this gesture the wrong way, because his panic seemed to spike. “I mean, n-not to talk about food! Since I… we… ate  _ you _ …” The man cut off, blushing a violent scarlet before sharply turning away again. Kei raised an eyebrow.

“Not that we’re going to eat you! Because we won’t! We shouldn’t have!” The man was stirring the soup so violently, his hand trembling a bit as he did so, that it was a wonder he hadn’t scalded himself already.

“Is…” Kei’s tone was cautious. “This some sort of attempt at an apology?” This wasn't making his headache better. Even he knew that broaching the topic of nearly killing someone before telling them your name was a social faux-pas. Not to mention that normally, when apologizing, people at least had the decency to meet your eyes.

At his words the man turned back again, rubbing the back of his neck with a somewhat sheepish chuckle. “You… could call it that. I really am sorry for what happened. There wasn’t any excuse. We all should have known better.”

Kei stared at him for a few seconds, contemplating his words; then, shrugging, he carefully averted his eyes back to the (depleted) plate of cookies. “I’m not dead, so I’m not terribly bothered,” he murmured, and for all the world hoped that he gave off the impression of not caring.

The man’s posture relaxed slightly. His entire manner suggested a man who had just had a heavy chain lifted from across his shoulders, but was very apprehensive about it being placed back again. “That’s good,” he replied, his voice soft in a way Kei wouldn’t have expected from such a big man. He turned back to the soup again.

“I didn’t know Kyuuketsuki ate food.”

“We don’t,” the man offered simply. “Not your type of food, anyways -- at least, we don’t need to. This is all for you.” Kei raised his eyebrows at the words, eyeing the pot of stew with a new light in his eyes. At the very least, he wouldn't go hungry here. “I’m Azumane Asahi, by the way.”

“Tsukishima Kei.” 

Golden eyes were sharp as they studied the man, observing his movements attentively. For a creature who no longer had any need to eat human food, it was clear that Asahi at least had a clue what he was doing. Kei just opened his mouth to inquire about the man’s story -- how long since he’d been human, what his specific power was, how old was he -- when at once it seemed as if a hurricane swept into the room.

As a powerful blast of air swept into the room, things suddenly went flying. Pots clattered; Asahi’s hair whipped around his face. A few papers that had been lying on the kitchen table went fluttering through the air, slowly drifting to the ground below. Even Kei found himself forced to grip the counter to keep from being knocked off his feet. From somewhere outside the door he heard a rather exasperated shout of “Noya!”

The boy in front of him -- for it was a boy that had run in here at a seemingly impossible speed -- let out a cackle before calling over his shoulder in a tone that did not sound apologetic, “Sorry! No running in the kitchen, I know!”

Barreling in directly after the first boy was someone Kei definitely recognized -- monk-cut guy. Whereas “Noya” had entered the room like a hurricane, Monk-Cut charged in like a truck, roaring and nearly tripping over the door frame as he raced after the apparent speed demon. Following along at a much less enthusiastic pace came three other figures, who Kei didn’t get a chance to look at properly because someone was already talking at a mile a minute.

Quick as a flash, Noya had crossed the kitchen and fixed his attention on Asahi. The larger man spared him a fond glance as he ladled broth into a bowl. “Still making food for the human?” Noya chirped, leaning against the counter in a way that probably intended to look casual. “Better hope he can handle it. You know, sometimes after losing so much blood a human body can’t handle too much food and so they reject it and they wind up just puking it all back up again -- or at least that’s what Chikara said, and he’d probably know, right? Hey Asahi, do you think he’d wind up throwing up blood? Can that happen?”

“Of course it can’t happen, Nishinoya!” snapped Monk-Cut guy, reaching blindly across the table and grasping for the plate of cookies. Helpfully, Kei pushed it towards his roaming hand, and he grunted out a distracted thanks. “Someone can’t just throw up blood unless they have a reason, you know! And if a body’s trying to make up for lost blood, it ain’t about to get rid of even more!” This statement, sensible or not, was semi-incoherent around a mouthful of cookie.

“Like  _ you’d _ know, Tanaka,” Nishinoya shot back with a roll of his eyes, apparently indignant at being shot down so quickly. “What do you think, Asahi?”

“I don’t know,” replied Asahi with a shrug, turning to the table Kei was still braced against and carefully setting down the bowl in front of him. At least  _ someone _ here knew how to play a good host. Kei nodded in thanks to the older man. “But considering Tsukishima just ate a whole plate of cookies, I don’t think there’s much danger of him throwing up anything.”

Kei didn’t have a clue how both Tanaka and Nishinoya could have completely missed the stranger standing in the middle of their kitchen. Sure enough, however, both of them stopped dead, freezing as they stared at the human with identical looks of incomprehension. One definitive conclusion blared through Kei’s mind:  _ these two were dimwits. _

At least the three boys behind him had the decency to notice he  _ existed _ . Kei turned, catching a glimpse of the three figures for what was really the first time. At once the entire world seemed to pause.  _ Because _ \-- because it was  _ him _ , and for an instant a twisted face and dripping fangs were all that he could see.

The expression the Kyuuketsuki called Ennoshita wore now was different. Kei could only call it…  _ guilty _ . Sleepy eyes met his after a beat of reluctance, a pale face grew even paler, and the other’s lips had just begun to form the first syllable of an earnest  _ “I’m sorry,” _ before Kei abruptly cut him off.

“It’s fine,” he said flatly, and Ennoshita’s mouth snapped closed again. Kei covertly inhaled a breath, hoping he didn’t look half as shaken up as he felt. Why was he so thrown off? “I think we’ve met before,” he moved on smoothly, eyes sweeping over the somewhat plain faces of the two Kyuuketsuki flanking Ennoshita’s left and right, and then back to the dimwits. “Glad to see you all looking more well-fed this time around. Hopefully you can refrain from taking a bite out of me.”

There was silence for a moment, before Nishinoya let out a somewhat sheepish chuckle. “Yeahhh… about that, we’re --”

“If you're going to apologize or something equally inane, you don't have to bother. Sugawara already did so, and so did Azumane just now." Kei only half glanced up, the rest of his attention doggedly focused on his soup. He tried to focus on how irritating it was that he actually had to bother telling these fools not to apologize to him, and not on the fact that he was in a room surrounded by people who just days ago had almost killed him.

"Oh." 

In a single word, Nishinoya seemed to voice the thoughts of everyone around him -- an equal mix of relief and bafflement that Kei was being so casual about this. It was almost easy to think that he didn't care at all; this was a good thing, because that was exactly what Kei wanted them to think. Then, in a movement so quick it was little more than a blur, Nishinoya clapped Asahi on his broad back. "That's good old Asahi for you! He apologizes for everything, even if he didn't even do anything! He's just tenderhearted that way, aren't you?"

"Oi, leave him alone, he might break!"

"I - what do you mean? I'm not that delicate!"

In response Nishinoya simply cackled. For his own sanctity of mind, Kei tuned out the rest of the conversation, which seemed ready to devolve into nothing but banter at this point. The soup was more interesting, and the taste of something more substantial than empty calories made him feel a bit more alive. Where had the Kyuuketsuki gotten these ingredients? Surely they hadn’t run all the way to the nearest village, charged down to the nearest market and bought soup ingredients in the middle of the night. Did they garden? Was that what monsters did in their spare time? Maybe they wrote poetry, too, or played the violin. Hell, maybe there was a whole Kyuuketsuki band, and they played in the town tavern on the weekends. They had to do  _ something _ all the way out here in the woods, didn’t they? Kei could imagine --

“I’m Tanaka Ryuunosuke!”

It was only when a hand suddenly slapped down on the table in front of him that Kei realized how distracted he had been.

“Hi,” he responded in a flat, bored tone. The monk-cut guy’s grin didn't falter. He had a scary face, decided Kei mildly.

“And my name's Nishinoya Yuu!” continued the short energy ball, apparently not deterred by Kei’s lack of enthusiasm in the slightest. “I do pretty much everything around here, you know!”

“Yeah right!” snorted another boy with a dusting of light brown hair, stepping in front of Nishinoya smoothly. “Kinoshita Hisashi,” he declared, quickly followed by the other guy at his side’s exclamation of “and I’m Narita Kazuhito!”

_ Too many names, _ thought Kei dully. He certainly wouldn’t be able to remember at least half of these people in ten minutes.

“Hi,” he said again, blinking up at the four bright smiles for a long moment before blandly turning back to his soup again. “Tsukishima Kei. Nice to meet you… I guess…”

For a moment, no one spoke, and Kei honestly couldn’t have cared less. He heard what sounded like Tanaka whispering something like  _ “what’s up with this guy?” _ and he was pretty sure he caught the words  _ “bad personality,” _ thrown in there somewhere, but once again -- as he made sure to remind himself more than once while shifting carrots around with his spoon -- he really  _ really _ did not care.

He had noticed that Ennoshita had been unusually silent during the round of introductions; but only when he heard the sound of a chair behind drawn up alongside him did he dismally realize that the other boy probably wanted the opportunity to chat in private. Since the others had so quickly lost interest in Kei, it seemed like the perfect time. He felt himself tense, the glare that was focused down at his soup intensifying before he cast Ennoshita a glance.

“Hi,” remarked Ennoshita. He looked nervous.

Kei said nothing. He’d said ‘hi’ so many times now that saying it again would be useless. The word -- and pleasantries in general -- was definitely beginning to annoy him. Another moment hung in the air where Ennoshita didn’t speak and Kei didn’t either; they were caught in an awkward staring contest, each one trying to pretend as if this situation wasn’t uncomfortable for him whatsoever. Actually it was unbearable, and loathe as he was to admit defeat Kei was just about to avert his eyes when Ennoshita spoke again.

“I’m Ennoshita Chikara, and I… guess we’ve met before, like you said. I just… I really want to apologize for --”

“Don’t.”

“But I will anyway, because I could have killed you. I mean, we all could have killed you --” There it was, exactly the thing Kei was trying  _ very hard _ not to think about. “-- and I’m really sorry, Tsukishima-kun. I’m a level-headed sort of person, I think… but when I saw you there I just sort of… lost it.”

“Well, then maybe you should work of building up a little bit more self control, so the same careless mistake doesn’t happen again.”

His words were harsh and much more brazen than he ought to have been considering he was in a room full of people who could literally kill him. To his surprise, Ennoshita didn’t bat an eye. He just looked even more humbled, and it occurred to Kei that perhaps it really was difficult to get a rise out of this guy after all.

“You’re right. I will make sure nothing like this…  _ ever _ happens again. I promise that, Kei.”

“Don’t promise me,” he retorted, shoving another spoonful of soup into his mouth. This guy was almost as confusing as Yamaguchi and his strange, dogged niceness. “I don’t care.”

“I -- umm…” Ennoshita cut off, clearing his throat. “Okay. Thanks. Glad we could put it behind us.”

Was  _ that _ what they had done? 

Ennoshita was smiling, looking relieved. Although he could clearly see the fangs jutting out from otherwise straight teeth, Kei managed not to grimace.

“Hey Chikara!” The shout from Nishinoya cut across the kitchen. “Is it possible to vomit blood if, like, you get punched in the stomach, or --”

_ “Whoa, who’s vomiting blood?” _ Kei fought the urge to bury his face in his hands at the sound of yet another strange and  _ loud _ voice. He was quickly coming to suspect that he was dead, and all of this was some circle of hell. “What happened?”

“Dumbass Hinata, look where you're --”

This exclamation was followed immediately by a loud crash, loud yelping, and several muffled swears; the unmistakable sound of glass shattering echoed in the silence that followed. Each of the kitchen’s occupants glanced around at each other. A mixture of shock, bafflement, and inappropriate glee danced across each face in turn, no one daring to speak for a long moment.

Then, from the hallway, came a subdued, “Oops.”

**_“DUMBASS!”_ **

“Not again,” Ennoshita moaned as a grinning Nishinoya promptly took off out of the kitchen, leaving behind a harsh gust of wind that blasted Kei in the face. “Why is it that anytime something happens it’s always  _ those two? _ ”

“It really has been more interesting around here since they showed up,” remarked Asahi, looking more anxious about the crash than anything else. The rest began filing out of the kitchen as well, led by the sounds of cursing and high-pitched shouts of indignation. His interest genuinely piqued, Kei decided that there couldn’t be much harm in following.

 

Had an entire tree suddenly crashed down straight onto the building, it couldn’t have added chaos to the sheer  _ catastrophe _ that greeted them when they stepped out into the foyer. The table that had been arranged so neatly in the center of the room had been knocked over and now lay in a splintered mess; a portrait that had made it’s way off the wall sported a large hole in the center of the canvas, the frame splintered alarmingly; a large mirror that had been hanging above the stairs had shattered, glass littering the landing and bottom steps; and in the middle of it all stood two very red-faced boys, shouting at each other while furiously flinging dead flowers back and forth at each other, in the middle of a war.

“Hinata, Kageyama, why do you always do this?” Based on Ennoshita’s exhausted reaction, this was a common occurrence. 

“More like  _ how,” _ amended Tanaka, picking up a huge piece of glass as he did so and thrusting it in front of his like a sword. He didn’t even seem fazed by the mess. “And always when we have guests, too. We hardly ever have guests. It’s like you’re trying to make an awful impression.”

“We aren’t trying to do  _ anything!” _

The little fireball in the center of the mess hopped up and down slightly as he spoke, a hundred and sixty three whole centimeters of righteous fury. In the dim light of the foyer his orange hair almost seemed to glow, embers of a fire burning crisp and bright in the dead of night. Behind him, the taller, much sterner looking black haired boy still seemed ready to clobber him. If he was the one responsible for this mess, Kei really couldn’t blame him.

Then large brown eyes flickered towards him, catching the sole human in their gaze; and Kei remembered.  _ Fireflies… _

As his heart dropped to his stomach, and his stomach subsequently dropped to his feet, the boy turned. “Oh, hey. You’re the guy that I bit.”

“Don’t just say that so casually,” snapped Kageyama, smacking the one called Hinata on the back of the head. Hinata hissed at him, but he was still focused on Kei.

“I’m... still pretty young, you know,” he continued, taking a step towards him over shattered glass. A part of Kei was weary, but he really couldn’t tell what the short boy was thinking. Was that look in his eyes threatening, or was it more… curious? “It’s harder for younger Kyuuketsuki to control their bloodlust, especially when we’re really hungry. I didn’t mean to… you know.”

“It’s fine,” retorted Kei through gritted teeth. He doubted that he sounded sincere; Hinata simply blinked up at him. He wanted that gaze, those eyes off of him, before that  _ feeling _ came back.

“I’m sorry about that -- I was pretty upset afterwards, too. I mean, if Kageyama hadn’t stopped us all when he did --”

“I said it’s fine.”

That feeling of feeling nothing, of emotions emptying away like water down a drain, leaving him empty and hollow and numb… maybe the idea of dying at the hands of bloodsuckers was scary, maybe being lost alone in the woods at night was terrifying, but not being able to feel anything at all was a nightmare. It shouldn't have gotten under his skin, but it  _ did, god did it ever, _ and he needed those eyes to look  _ away _ \--

"Are you sure? I mean, if it were me, I'd be pretty freaked out --"

"I  _ said _ it's  _ fi-- _ "

Kei’s voice had just risen a harsh pitch when suddenly an icy weight came to rest on his shoulder; a wave of calm, subtle and gentle as the brush of a breeze against his cheeks, carried the harsh words away like a tide out to sea.  _ Sugawara, _ he realized, fighting the urge to sigh.

“Hinata. Let’s not bother Tsukishima-kun any more right now. I’m not sure  _ how _ you managed to do… this…” Hinata’s eyes drifted guiltily to his feet, which were still balanced on shattered glass shards. “But when Daichi finds out you broke his table you know he won't be happy, so maybe we should  _ all _ work on cleaning this up before he gets back.”

“R- right. Sorry, Suga-san.” 

Hinata's focus was off of him at last, and Kei could breathe again; a second of hesitation flickered across his face, but the redhead at last scampered off, joining Ennoshita and Asahi where they were carefully gathering up the splintered pieces of wood from the ground. Sugawara’s grip slowly lifted from his shoulder, and Kei turned to face him.

Sugawara couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at the sight of Kei’s face, taut and haggard. “You look overwhelmed,” he remarked, not an insult but a plain observation. Kei’s jaw tensed. “I know, it can be a lot to take in at first. I’ve gotten used to them all, but they can be a handful. Are you tired?”

Kei’s real problem was more a headache, throbbing at the back of his skull like the dull beat of a drum, pressing and pushing until he was sure his head was verging on bursting from the stress. But at the moment it was all a bit too much, every last thing from the glass on the floor to Nishinoya racing around the room to even Suga’s gentle gaze, and Kei somehow found it in him to nod. The smile directed at him turned even more sympathetic, and Sugawara nodded towards the stairs.

“Do you remember the way back to your room?”

Did he remember? Probably, but getting there was another story entirely. Maybe it showed on his face, because a familiar voice suddenly piped up from behind him.

“I’ll take him up.” 

The tone was soft, tentative, and Kei had heard enough of Yamaguchi’s voice by that point to be able to pinpoint it even when the shy boy seemed hesitant to interrupt their conversation. Sugawara simply nodded, and as Kei turned he watched the young Kyuuketsuki hand off the few collected glass shards in his hands to Nishinoya before gently -- tentatively -- taking Kei by the arm.

“Come on,” he said in a soft voice, and though every instinct urged Kei to pull away, he didn’t. Mostly because he felt shaky enough that he recognized there was a very real chance that he might fall over going up the stairs if he didn’t have Yamaguchi there to support him. (Also, of all the people in the room, he trusted Yamaguchi -- the one who hadn't taken a bite out of him, and had no emotionally-manipulative superpower that Kei was aware of -- the most.)

They passed two more people going up the stairs: the blonde girl from earlier and another darker haired girl that Kei didn’t recognize. Yamaguchi muttered a quiet hello, but for the most part was silent until they’d reached the familiar top floor once more.

Kei was eager for isolation, and quiet; he recognized Yamaguchi beginning to say something, but he didn’t bother to pause and hear what that was before he slammed the door shut in the other boy’s face. He all but dove for the futon, burying himself in the covers as if they had the ability to protect him from the rest of the world. Breaths escaped him in shaky pants as trembling fingers glanced across the bandage on his neck, hovering for a short second before tearing the gauze away entirely.

Blood stained the stark white fabric, only half dried. It looked brown and sick, accentuated by the room’s dim light casting shadows over everything. Kei felt his stomach turn. That did not stop him from glancing his fingers over his neck, the feeling of two distinct puncture wounds causing a sharp chill to run down his spine. He could feel the injuries. He could feel the drops of blood staining his fingers. He could feel Hinata’s fangs sinking deep into his neck again, and the awful helpless numbness that had come with being able to  _ feel nothing at all _ \--

_ Akiteru shuddered in his sleep, his brow creased and the evidence of fever slickening his skin. Tentatively,, Kei's shaking hands lifted the bandage from his brother’s neck. The two distinct puncture wounds there caused him to take in a sharp inhale of breath. A whimper escaped his brother and he drew back, shocked and afraid at how completely helpless they both were; helpless against the world, and against nightmares lurking in the forest just out of sight. Helpless. _

It was too much. It was all too much. How hard had he worked to convince himself that monsters in the woods were only the stuff of fairy stories? How diligently, fervidly had he fought to keep himself from ever feeling as helpless as he had seeing his brother lying in agony? How utterly weak had he been at the glimmer of light in Hinata's eyes, how easily had he almost  _ died? _

_ He wouldn't die; the doctor had promised that he would live, and Akiteru was his older brother, he had to live... but if he couldn't protect himself, how on earth could Kei rely on Akiteru to protect him too? He didn't have any other choice... he had to protect himself… _

How easy had it been for him to simply feel nothing at all?

A pressure burned at the backs of his eyes, and he was unable to swallow down the lump building in his throat. It was half panic, half despair; but it tasted bitter. Kei curled into himself, trembling arms wrapping around quaking knees. For the first time in a very long time he allowed himself the luxury of crying.

 


	4. Chapter 4

"Umm, Tsukishima-kun? S-sorry to bother you…”

That tentative voice was possibly the most _unwelcome_ thing Kei had ever heard. Somehow it managed to slice through the weighty silence of the room as expertly as a sharpened blade, severing the cocoon of solitude Kei had managed to build around himself with careless ease. The words cut directly into his skin. Why couldn’t everyone and everything just _go away?_ Wasn’t it obvious that all he really wanted right now was to be alone?

His entire body protested against reacting to Yamaguchi’s words; if he stayed still, he clung to the faint hope that the other boy would simply assume he was asleep. Unfortunately, it seemed like irritating amounts of persistence had to be a Kyuuketsuki trait. He could hear Yamaguchi’s unsure steps echo on the wooden floor as he ventured further into the room.

 _“Go away.”_ When he finally spoke he sounded like a petulant child, voice half muffled by his pillow. He felt ridiculous; he could not help but be glad that his face was hidden from the other boy’s view, not only to hide the slowly drying tear tracks streaking his pale skin, but the humiliated flush that had suddenly found its way to his cheeks as well.

The sound of Yamaguchi's anxious swallow was all too loud in the quiet room. “I was wondering if you wanted --”

“Since apparently slamming the door in your face wasn't enough for you to take a hint,” grit out Kei, nails digging into his pillowcase, “I do not _want_ anything right now, unless you’re offering to leave me alone. I have a very bad headache.”

“Oh.”

Silence followed for a few moments, as tense and awkward as the tight feeling that had settled in Kei's stomach. Back turned to Yamaguchi, he felt around on the ground before relocating his glasses, previously removed and set aside for their own safety. His face twisted up in a wince at the feeling of cool metal settling upon the skin under his eyes, raw and sore from the amount of times he had dragged his hands over his face. He hoped the glasses would at least do something to conceal the redness of his eyes when he finally glanced at Yamaguchi; but if the other boy’s sharp intake of breath was any indication, he was out of luck.

“Are -- are you --”

_“Leave.”_

As if compensating for any physical weakness, Kei's voice was hard as stone. Yamaguchi, not having expected such blunt rejection, drew back. An expression of hurt crossed over his face before he could stop it, but this was far better than the open concern that had been there previously. This boy did not need to be _concerned_ for him; he could not do anything to help him. He didn’t _need_ help.

“I would really like to be alone right now,” he said, voice low and eyes fixed on Yamaguchi in a glare that left little doubt that he was intruding. Thankfully, the other seemed to get the message.

“Sorry, Tsukishima-kun.” Immediately he was backing towards the door again, almost colliding with the doorframe in his haste. Once more, Kei wondered if he looked as scary as Yamaguchi’s reaction indicated, or if the other boy was just skittish. “I -- if you need anything, I --”

A hard golden gaze halted the words in their tracks. Yamaguchi’s head bowed. “Sorry. Goodnight.”

The door shut behind him, and the silence that once more filled  the empty space in the room seemed much better company than any human could offer. Safe once again from prying eyes, he dragged his hand through his short curls, lips pressing into a thin line to keep the enflux of shame and shock inside. Enough of it had already leaked out, evident in the stinging gashes marring his face in the benign form of tear tracks. He could not lose his composure again, not after he’d just made a fool of himself in front of Yamaguchi. He could not lose his head. Not until he was home.

His parents would be waiting. _Akiteru_ would be waiting.

Akiteru. What could he say to his brother when he saw him again? What could he say when their relationship hadn’t been the same in years, not since his brother had come stumbling out of the woods with a demon on his tail, bleeding and barely alive? When afterwards Akiteru refused to talk about it, refused to think about it, tried to act like everything was normal (but everything _wasn’t_ normal, not the nightmares, or the way his warnings to Kei about the woods lost all traces of humor, or the nights Kei would wake to find his brother, his face bathed in moonlight, standing at the window pointed in the direction of the woods and just _staring_ )? What could Kei say to him? _I understand now. I didn’t listen to you. They attacked me too. I’m alive too. I **understand.**_

He couldn’t say that.

He couldn’t think about this. He couldn’t think about what Akiteru’s reaction would be to learning how close his baby brother had come to dying. He couldn’t worry about any of it, not when he knew how burnt out his emotions already were. He couldn’t allow himself to lose an ounce more of his composure.

Not until he was home.

That was what he needed to do then, wasn’t it?

He needed to get home.

* * *

 He knew that the Kyuuketsuki rose with the setting of the sun, so it was only natural to conclude that they went to bed with the dawn. He would admit only to himself that he still felt shaky on his feet after the amount of blood loss from days ago. His body had served him well in replenishing a deal of what he’d lost, but he still wasn’t in his best condition. That didn’t hinder him in being silent, though, or light on his feet; these were the skills that he needed most this night, and they did not fail him.

He charted his time by the window at the end of the hallway -- the same one the blonde girl had been so afraid would send her falling to her (second?) death. Every so often he would peer out the door to his room, watching through the small crack in the drawn curtains as the sun awoke from its slumber and began to fill the sky with light once more. The inky black scenery above the treetops, dusted with no light but that from the moon, began to fade from a deep indigo to far milder shades of violet, pink, and orange. Kei had never been a fan of dawn - it was far too early for a sane person to be awake for any reason, never mind for something as inane as watching the sun rise. Now, he thought, dawn was his savior.

Still, he waited. He could hear the seconds ticking, time dragging on and on as morning slowly rose up over the forest. He practiced long division in his head; he counted to a thousand, once, twice, five times. Finally, he decided that enough time had passed. Stepping out of the room, he shut the door gently behind him.

He had already established that the castle was large; it was large enough, as he learned, that each individual in this makeshift group had their own chosen sleeping area. He had discreetly watched, with the first dawning rays of the sun, as the group of three Kyuuketsuki from the kitchen -- Ennoshita and _whatever_ the other two’s names had been, he honestly couldn’t recall -- ascended a flight of stairs to what had seemed like an attic. They shut the hallway door behind them, calling out soft “good mornings" as they went. This left them, he safely assumed, out of the way. Where the others had gone, he didn’t know, but he figured that they had all probably retired to their own beds, where they couldn't be any threat to him.

He crept down the first flight of stairs slowly, to the second floor. There it would have been all too easy to just continue down, but inexplicably his eyes caught on a hallway, _the_ hallway, and he found himself venturing away from the landing to take a look.

He stepped carefully, mindful of the sounds of loud snoring coming from somewhere on the other side of the wall. _Someone_ certainly was making a racket in their sleep. It almost made the moment when he discovered, illuminated by a thin strip of daylight filtering in from the drawn curtain, a darkening copper-colored stain clear on the carpet less horrible. It was _his_ blood, he knew without having to think twice. The feeling of laying in that exact spot and having his blood drained flooded back to him, leaving him lightheaded. A shudder ran down his spine, and he felt his stomach churn.

“D- _Daichi!”_

The sound of a voice -- a _voice,_ when everyone should have been asleep -- startled him enough that he jumped. Wincing at the gasp he hoped no one had heard, he cautiously continued on down the hallway, turning the corner and stopping just in front of a door to a darkened room that remained slightly ajar.

“Shhh,” he heard someone croon, and even though every instinct in his body was screaming that this was a _terrible idea,_ Kei squinted into the dark light of the room.

“Daichi, I --” Sugawara’s words cut off in a light moan, pale arms entwining around the bare back of a taller, muscular figure that Kei had never seen before. The second man was very occupied lining kisses along Sugawara’s pale chest, leaving flashes of bite marks along his collarbones. Both bodies  trembled in anticipation, Sugawara wearing a slightly blissed-out look as his hands carded through his partner’s dark hair. From the other side of the hallway, Kei's eyes were practically popping out of his skull.

His reaction was alarm, mixed with mortification. He wished he could say he was surprised; he honestly wasn’t. Somehow, accidentally witnessing two strangers this close to getting it on wasn’t the _weirdest_ part of his night. He decided to just count his blessings that they hadn’t noticed him and make himself scarce before things could get awkward for everyone. _So,_ he couldn’t help but think to himself as he hastened down the remaining flight of stairs, _**that’s** what Kyuuketsuki do in their spare time._

Distracted as he was, he didn't notice the obstacle waiting at the bottom step until he had already stumbled, toppling forward. Someone had foolishly left a splintered piece of the old table there and Kei fell to his knees hard, fighting back a cry as shockwaves of paim shot up his legs. The bang that he imagined echoed through the entire house stole his breath away. For a long moment he held still, not rising to his feet, not even daring to breathe. He held still, _waiting._

No one came.

Had they not heard? Did they just not care? He didn’t know; all he was sure about was that for the first time in a long time, luck was on his side. He wasn’t dead, he wasn’t discovered, and he was only a few steps away from the door and from _freedom._

He rose to his feet, shaky on legs that didn’t want to cooperate. Pausing, he inhaled a deep breath. There was still no sound from upstairs; not a cry, a snore, not even a whisper.

His eyes locked on the door.

He bolted.

As soon as he reached the door he threw it open. The first blast of brisk morning air hit him, chilling his skin and causing him to gasp in a freezing lungful. It seemed to him like a caress from the gods. He had never been one for careless expression of emotion, but now he grinned widely at the sight of grass and forest stretching out around him on all sides. He was free; _he was free,_ and freedom had never felt so sweet.

Then he was running, the wooden door shutting itself in his wake as he sprinted from the castle, moving on feet that seemed to barely touch the grass beneath him. He sprinted through the clearing, into the treeline, and lost himself in the expanse of woods that at once seemed both so uncertain and so welcoming. Ahead of him lay his home, the farmlands that had been in his father’s line for generations, and his family. Behind him, the castle of vampires slept soundly on. Between the two, only a forest; and he ran.

* * *

 Kei hated his life.

He was not, nor had he ever been, prone to overdramatising a situation. Even as a child people had often scolded him for not being more empathetic, more imaginative; he hadn’t found much reason to _care._ The world around him was far simpler when the only things that he put any stock in were the facts clearly in front of his face. He was never known to make careless statements, or say useless things. He didn’t say -- or think -- anything he didn’t mean.

Yes, he _definitely_ hated his life in that moment.

He was alive -- that was the good part. It was pretty hard not to appreciate that; being nearly exsanguinated at the hands of monsters who drink human blood really does put things in perspective for a person. Being alive was definitely a nice thing.

Getting lost in the middle of a dangerous forest twice in one week -- _that_ just made him feel like an idiot.

Maybe when village parents warned their children to keep away from the woods, he mused as he lounged, scowling, against a tree trunk, their meaning was less _“you will run into dangerous things and probably die”_ and more _“you will get lost in the very large, baffling forest and never find your way out”._ Either way, Kei decided, he hadn’t been properly warned. When he got out of here and eventually grew up to have children of his own, he was going to be blunt with his offspring: _“Do not ever go into the forest, because it is very big and very confusing and there are vampires who would like to eat you. If you go into the forest, I will not come looking for you and you will no longer be my problem.”_

Certainly, no one was looking for _him._  The thought made him feel a bit sour inside. He had always thought of his family as loving, by far more caring than he probably deserved. Yet, with their son missing for a number of days, had it really never occurred to them to check the forest?

Or maybe they had. Maybe they had already scoured every inch of this forest three times over -- while Kei had been locked up in a castle, in a coma as a result of excessive blood loss.

Maybe they all thought he was dead. Maybe they’d had his funeral already.

“I wasn’t even invited!” he spoke out loud to himself petulantly, and though talking to himself was never exactly a habit he had picked up he felt that this situation, more than any other, justified it. “Shouldn’t you at least have the decency to invite a man to his own funeral?”

Here’s the funny thing about talking to yourself; nobody ever expects it. When people speak out loud, it’s normally because they’re engaged in a conversation with another person. So when they just say something to themselves, out of nowhere, without any other person in sight, it tends to take whomever might be observing them by surprise purely because they hadn’t been _expecting_ any words to come out of the person’s mouth.

It wasn’t as if this hadn’t occurred to Kei before; in fact, this was the reason he didn’t bother being surprised when people talked to themselves. Still, he mused, anyone _really_ dedicated to following someone around shouldn’t be foolish enough to give their position away over something so inane.

“I know you’re there,” he called out, eyes fixed on the trunk of a tree several yards away from him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and he debated rising to his feet before deciding it wasn’t worth the effort. From where the sudden sound of a gasp had come from just seconds earlier, there was now a quiet rustling of twigs; and then, inevitably, a figure stepped out from behind the tree.

It was a man, Kei realized at once; or at least a boy. He stood hunched over, with a hood pulled high over his head to conceal the majority of his face in shadow. Stray strands of unruly hair peeked out, brushing tanned cheeks, and from behind the hood dark eyes fixed on him with a startled expression.

“I’m sorry!” exclaimed the boy, at the same second Kei blurted, “Yamaguchi?”

Behind his glasses, one of Kei's eyes twitched violently. _“Why._ Why are you here.”

“I -- I saw that you had been crying! And I guess I was worried, which was why I stayed up to watch you and saw you keep looking out the door and staring at the window, so I figured that you were probably going to try to leave! And then after I pretended to go to bed, I waited to hear your footsteps and got out and followed you! I’m really, really sorry, and I know I probably shouldn't have followed you, I just… I wanted to make sure you were okay!”

Tsukishima blinked, taking in this onslaught of words slowly and with much effort. When Yamaguchi was anxious, he spoke fast. “Are… you supposed to be out here?” he said at last, noting both the heavy dark hood slung over the boy’s head and the sun now shining high in the sky, partially obscured by the skeleton trees characteristic of this point in winter.

“No,” replied Yamaguchi promptly, shaking his head -- and nearly causing his hood to fall away. Hastily restraightening it, the other boy chuckled nervously. “I’m not, and if Daichi found out I left during the daytime he’d be furious. We… don’t exactly do well in the sunlight.”

“I figured,” replied Tsukishima, crinkling his nose.

“Our skin starts getting really hot, and then cracking, and if we stay out for too long we might actually die --”

“I didn’t ask,” he returned just as quickly, holding up a hand to silence the other boy. Yamaguchi’s jaw snapped shut, teeth clinking with the action. “Go home, Yamaguchi.”

“No.” The other boy was earnest in his refusal, leaning in so close that his eyes looked twice their actual size. Tsukishima could count the freckles on his nose. “Not while you’re out here alone!”

“I’ll be fine on my own.”

“And what if you get lost again?”

“I’m _not_ lost!”

“Well, I never said you were _presently_ lost, but now that you’ve said that I’m pretty sure you actually _are!”_

Tsukishima grunted, leaning his head back against the tree. Inhaling deeply, he squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment before pulling himself to his feet. Rising to his full height, it was not hard to see that for as tall as Yamaguchi was, Tsukishima was  taller. The other boy’s head tilted up to look at him, and he blinked like a rather stupid owl.

“Umm, also, here’s sort of the thing…” His voice was slow, somewhat uncertain, and the nervous little smile he offered made it clear that whatever his next words were, Tsukishima would not like them. “I’ve never been out in the woods alone before, and never in the daylight... I’m about as useless during the day as you are at night…” (Tsukishima’s eyes flashed dangerously) “And, if I’m being honest I don’t even know how to get back at this point. So unless _you_ know where we are…”

It was the other boy’s hopeful blinking of wide eyes, the almost eager little smile that stretched across his face, that pushed Tsukishima to finally come clean. “I don’t,” he replied bluntly. Yamaguchi’s face fell.

“Oh,” he said in a quiet voice, and glanced about him nervously. “So.”

Kei remained stonily stubborn in his silence. Wordless. _Glaring._ Yamaguchi was a brave soul to be able to meet his eye, but although clearly anxious he still managed a half-grin.

“I guess we’re both lost then." A titter of _very_ nervous laughter had Tsukishima's jaw clenching dangerously. "That’s… sort of funny.”

“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”

“Sorry, Tsukishima.”

* * *

 “Oh, I don’t think we’ve passed that tree! Have we?”

“We have.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

“How do you know?”

“Because those same branches were just where they are now an hour ago.”

“You memorized where the branches go? That’s amazing, Tsukishima!”

“No, I haven’t memorized the -- I mean, look. See how those branches are positioned oddly? They kind of look like they’re in the shape of a pair of glasses. I noticed that before and I remembered it when I just saw it now, so that’s how I know we’ve passed this tree before.”

“That’s… wow, that’s… _not_ something I would have noticed. Branches looking like glasses? I mean, it’s… kind of nerdy, Tsukishima…”

“It’s not _nerdy!_ Shut up!”

“Heh heh, sorry! It’s funny!”

“No it isn’t!”

* * *

 “Being lost in the woods is actually sort of boring. In books, exciting stuff happens in the woods.”

“What sort of books do _you_ read?”

“Umm… anything in the house. Anything Daichi or Suga can get their hands on, too. Fiction, mostly. I really like mysteries, things I can try to figure out… or I like stories about heroes, people saving the day. Exciting stuff. What do you read?”

“... I like books about fish. And nature. Dinosaurs are interesting.”

“Ah, non-fiction then! That’s great, Tsukki!”

“... _Tsu--_ "

“Oh. Umm, sorry! I didn’t even realize I called you that!”

“...”

“Is… it okay? If I call you Tsukki?”

“No.”

“Oh. Why? I think it’s kind of cute. It’s a nice nickname. Your full name is sort of a mouthful.”

“Says you. It sounds strange.”

“Maybe you just need to get used to it.”

“I really don’t think so.”

“Okay. We’ll… see, then. Who knows? Maybe you’ll even start to like it.”

* * *

 “How do you not know your way around these woods? Don’t you _live_ here?”

“I told you, I’ve never been out alone before!”

“What type of Kyuuketsuki gets lost in their own woods?”

“I’m not good at the whole ‘being undead’ thing! I wish I could be of more help to you!”

“Ugh. You’re not a good monster.”

“You’d make a very good monster.”

“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”

“Sorry, Tsukki.”

* * *

 

“I’m hungry.”

“Me too.”

“Please, _please_ don’t say that.”

“Oh. Sorry, Tsukki!”

* * *

 

Kei wasn’t sure what he ought to feel more disturbed by -- the fact that, judging by the location of the sun, it would actually begin to set pretty soon, or the fact that Yamaguchi’s company actually seemed to become more bearable with time.

It wasn’t that he liked the boy, respected him, or even appreciated his coming after him. It was just Yamaguchi’s chatter, his persistent, dogged _niceness,_ that was tearing down Kei's well-constructed walls one tiny chunk of mortar at a time. In all honesty, Kei wasn’t sure whether he’d rather Yamaguchi suddenly figured out the way back to his house and took off at that instant, leaving him alone. There was something about the presence of another in these woods that made him feel, if not less lost, at least less alone. He wasn’t used to the feeling -- but he didn’t hate it.

He didn’t even hate Yamaguchi. But damn him if he wasn’t still trying.

The boy’s pace had actually slowed noticeably over the last hour. Now he was dragging his feet; his purposeless conversation had trickled down to just an occasional remark here and there.  More than once Kei caught him trying to conceal yawns when he thought he was going unobserved. Obviously not going to bed today was taking it’s toll on him, and Kei tried and failed not to roll his eyes when Yamaguchi attempted to hide another yawn behind his hand, purposefully shaking his head as if to clear it.

“You’re tired,” he remarked bluntly, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. Yamaguchi  perked up at his words, eyes wide and surprised.

“I -- no. I’m just…”

“Does yawning mean something different for Kyuuketsuki?”

The boy’s eyes drifted towards the ground, posture somehow getting even worse as he slumped in on himself. Kei couldn’t help but think that Yamaguchi’s slouching was simply an effort to make his tall frame seem smaller than it actually was, less noticeable. Someone ought to tell him that he didn’t stand out from the crowd much to begin with.

“Maybe I’m a little sleepy,” Yamaguchi finally admitted, rubbing an eye with the back of his hand. Kei couldn’t help but snort; yet there was something the slightest bit pitiful about the bleary-eyed expression on the other boy’s face. His tone might was just a bit gentler when he spoke again.

“We’re almost home, I’m sure. I think I recognize these trees now, and not because we’ve passed them before.” At Yamaguchi’s  reaction to the word “home”, he hastened to clarify. “My home, I mean. We’re almost to my farmstead.”

“Oh.” Yamaguchi’s voice was soft, and for the briefest moment Kei wondered what he must be thinking. His answer came quickly; Yamaguchi wasn’t one for keeping things hidden. “Tsukki, what’s your family like?”

He shrugged his shoulders, fishing for something interesting -- or at least substantial -- to say. His family was hardly the most interesting. “We’re… ordinary. My father farms. I have a brother, six years older than me. His name is Akiteru, and he works in town."

“A brother,” Yamaguchi echoed, smiling slightly, as if the word held a special sort of meaning. “I never had one of those before.”

Kei shook his head, for a moment allowing himself to imagine life without a brother. It wasn’t easy. Akiteru had been around for as long as he could remember, always the figure guiding and watching over him as he grew. He teased whenever he saw the chance, could be boisterous on occasion, and had trouble understanding Kei's sometimes pedantic habits. Yet they were still brothers. Akiteru had, without fail, always supported Kei. Even if they had grown so much more distant since the… _incident,_ a life without Akiteru in it was  unfathomable to Kei. How strange it would be to be an only child. He wondered if it would be lonely.

“You’re lucky,” was all he said to Yamaguchi, and he fell silent at that, hoping that the conversation would simply die out on its own. He should have known better.

“I had a mother, though,” Yamaguchi murmured, voice raspy in the forest’s silence. “And a father.”

“How long ago was that?”

Silence followed the question. Was Yamaguchi hesitant to answer, or could it be that he simply didn’t _know?_ Memory could be a fickle thing; Sugawara had barely remembered how many years it had been since he had been human. Just what memories did Kyuuketsuki retain of their old lives, their families, the person they were before they died? Unwillingly, he found his gaze flickering back to Yamaguchi; the shadows that his hood created cast his face into an eerie sort of darkness as he frowned, brows furrowed towards the ground.

“I’m not sure,” Kei thought he heard him whisper; then again, he coils have misheard. Turning around, he tried to push the nagging curiosity (and _sadness)_ out of his mind.

They didn’t speak any more after that, and both boys were probably glad for it. Yamaguchi had slowed so much that Kei decelerated his pace just so the other could keep up. Whether this was an act of kindness or not, the slight tug of a smile at Yamaguchi’s lips made it clear that he appreciated the gesture. Together they wandered the woods, making their way past towering trees barren of leaves and over fallen logs, corpses remaining from the last big storm that had shaken the forest.

As Kei walked, he wracked his brain for anything that seemed even familiar. Steadily, more landmarks popped up that he was able to recognize. They were almost at the edge of the woods. He could feel the atmosphere of the village, of home, calling out to him in it’s familiar siren song. Somehow, with  _absolutely no clue_ how he’d done it, he had managed to find his way out.

His mind was so abuzz wit's adrenaline and elation at the realizing that he was probably only minutes away from seeing his home again that he almost didn’t hear Yamaguchi when he spoke up.

“Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Kei asked, pausing in his step. His tone belied annoyance he was doing a poor job of hiding. They were nearly _home;_ he didn’t want to be distracted, not when he was so close to finally being... safe.

But when he glanced back, Yamaguchi's complexion had grown ashy. His head was perked up, and he looked far more alert than he had in hours. Chestnut eyes flickered anxiously from side to side, scanning the forest around them for… _something_ that Kei was neither able to see nor hear. Unconsciously he found his fingernails digging into his palms, his pulse jumping slightly. If something had Yamaguchi nervous, then logically he, the scrawny human, ought to be wary as well.

Then again, he got the feeling that Yamaguchi was the type of person who got nervous when people stared at him for too long, or if he saw a large bird, so maybe that was an erroneous statement. Even so, Kei found his own gaze darting rapidly around the seemingly deserted woods.

“What is it, Yamaguchi?”

“I thought… it just feels like we… aren’t alone… _doesn’t_ it?” The boy’s eyes were suddenly on him, very wide and very confused. Kei blinked for a moment before shrugging.

“I can’t tell. Are we… being watched?”

“I don’t know…” A frown tugged at his lips as the other boy glanced from side to side, shrinking into himself even more. He was blinking rapidly, eyes fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird. “We might be. I… could be… _wrong.”_

Kei's eyebrows rose. Yamaguchi’s words had slowed down dramatically, and upon reaching the final syllable he slumped forward without warning. Seized with the realization that _oh gods this boy was actually about to pass out_ Kei instinctively lunged forward, catching Yamaguchi around his thin waist just as he began to tip ovet. As he hoisted the other back into an upright position, using no small amount of his own weight to help support him, Yamaguchi blinked owlishly  at him.

“I was wrong,” he said simply, the  dazed look in his eyes sending a creeping feeling up Kei's spine. Still, he was more than willing to push his uncertainty when faced by the still-pressing notion of getting back home. The thought of being watched was more than unnerving, and it was easier, far more _comfortable,_ to just push it to the back of his mind. Yamaguchi had been wrong. It wasn't as if the notion was earth-shattering.

“Come on,” he urged, grunting slightly as he adjusted Yamaguchi’s weight on his hip -- somehow he doubted that the other boy would be able to carry himself any further, if the way he was suddenly leaning heavily on him was any indication. Exhaustion must have caught up to him at last. Kei shook his head in exasperation at the ridiculousness of the situation he'd found himself in. “Not much longer.”

Yamaguchi hummed in agreement, obediently dragging his feet across the ground as they continued to move through the woods. In the last vestiges of daylight, Yamaguchi’s hood had slipped back from his head. This close to him, Tsukishima noted  that he’d never realized how pale the other boy’s lips were. They  lacked the flush of blood, causing them to be only slightly lighter than the rest of his skin, with an  near-purplish tint that would  stand out amongst ordinary humans. He pursed his own lips, reminding himself to pay less attention to Yamaguchi and more to where he was walking as they both stumbled over a tree root.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he realized the trees were thinning out. He barely had time to register his elation before  the open field marking the end of the forest rose out before him, breaking out past the tree line like a heavensend. His breath caught in his throat, the realization that they were out of the woods settling hard and sudden in his stomach. For a moment, it seemed as if his feet wouldn't even cooperate. He blinked in awe, staring far across the meadow at the distant fence that marked the border of his family’s farmland.

Home.

**_“Kei!”_ **

The shout that rang out across the clearing sent a jolt straight up Tsukishima’s spine. Electricity buzzed in the air around him, fireworks shooting off inside his head. He stared out, wide-eyed, across the meadow at the sight of his older brother charging full-speed towards him.

 _“Akiteru,”_ he breathed, the realization hitting him like a punch to the gut.

He’d made it home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Tsukishima takes matters into his own hands, SOME ACTUAL STUFF HAPPENS WOW, and he makes it home. Still, he's got a dead-tired vampire and really no idea what to do with him, so what follows next should be... interesting.
> 
> By the way, if you thought Yamaguchi was acting strangely towards the end there - he was. There was a reason for that. Stay tuned.


	5. Chapter 5

He moved almost without registering what he was doing. Adjust the pillow. Pull the blankets up to his chin. Pull the blankets _over his head_ , because Yamaguchi was apparently one of those people who makes weird faces while sleeping, and it was oddly cute but annoying at the same time, and definitely _not_ something Kei wanted to see.

All he was doing was keeping himself busy to distract himself from the more pressing issue at hand. He was fussing over a sleeping Yamaguchi like the mother hen that he’d never been in his life, just to avoid the very real fact that his brother was standing in his bedroom doorway. Akiteru was _watching_. He was waiting for him to turn around; but Kei wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.

Predictably, Akiteru was the one to break the silence -- _pushing_ , the way he was always so good at.

“Kei.”

“Hmm?” The only response he gave was a disinterested noise, accompanied by a slight tilt of his head. He didn't know how he could be making his unwillingness to chat any clearer; but Akiteru was good at feigning ignorance to social cues when it suited him. He had always spoken his little brother’s language fluently, yet had no trouble playing a foreigner. Kei grit his teeth and stilled, hearing his brother take a step further into the room.

Immediately after he'd gotten home he’d been assaulted with a flurry of tears, embraces, and half-hearted scoldings. Kei’s head had been left spinning in the face of more attention than he'd received in years. His father had actually _hugged_ him; he couldnt remember the last time he'd done _that_. He’d even found himself reacting unexpectedly, burying his face in his mother’s shoulder when she embraced him and holding on for a perhaps few seconds longer than necessary. In the midst of all the commotion, the shouting and crying and _'we thought you were gone!'s,_ it had been easy for Yamaguchi to mostly go unnoticed.

Kei wasn't sure how long the other boy had observed them in silence, hovering in the doorway. When he'd glanced at Yamaguchi there had been an odd expression on his face -- something caught just between melancholy and loneliness -- but Akiteru had  flung himself forward for another hug before he could examine it.

That hug had been the fateful one. The second his brother tensed, back going stiff and hand stilling along the curve of Kei’s neck, they had both known.

The cuts on his neck had yet to heal, and Akiteru had seen wounds like those before. They all had.

He brushed off his parents’ concern, of course -- bruises and cuts could be explained away by spending so long _“out in the wilderness”,_ and he didn't let them inspect closely.It had been  four days, he learned. Four days of his family constantly searching, scouring, and praying for some sort of miracle. Four days since he'd been lost, and now he was found again. His parents were so happy to have him back that they barely even questioned the two slowly forming scabs on his neck. But Akiteru had _known_. When he looked at Kei from that point forward, it wasn't with relief but with a wide-eyed, disbelieving gaze that almost resembled fear.

Fear… for him, or fear _of_ him?

Kei was the one to remember Yamaguchi first, only after the boy  quietly asked if they had somewhere he could lay down. The family didn't have a spare room, and the couch was too lumpy to be any form of comfortable, so to avoid questions they wouldn't be able to answer Kei had very quickly ushered the exhausted Kyuuketsuki to his own bed. Yamaguchi was asleep practically seconds after his head hit the pillow. Kei regarded him with a dull  irritation for a moment, as the realization hit him that he would probably be the one who wound up on the couch that night.

Then, with a sigh, he reemerged from his bedroom to submit himself to another round of familial pampering. Yamaguchi’s presence was explained away as that of a boy from a neighboring village whom he’d met in the woods -- a _friend_ , who’d helped him find his way back.

Akiteru knew.

By the time his parents had finally stopped exhausting Kei’s very limited patience with their attention, he had been very grateful to escape to his room with the promise of dinner in a short while. It was enough time, he thought, to regain some sense of equilibrium back in familiar surroundings.

He was wrong. Peace lasted for about five minutes -- and then Akiteru tapped gently on his door.

Kei adjusted Yamaguchi’s blankets one last time, flinching as Akiteru’s steps creaked along the wooden floor. He heard his brother shut the door behind him. The sound of him clearing his throat cut through the heavy curtain of silence that had cloaked the room, and Kei bit back a grimace before turning to face his brother.

Staring at his brother's face, he reflected that the years had left Akiteru remarkably unchanged. He had grown into his lA lines in his early teens, and still carried with him the same handsomeness that Kei had always admired as a child. Akiteru’s features were less defined than his own, his jaw not as sharp and his eyes not half as intense (though that might be because Akiteru hardly ever wore a scowl, while Kei was rarely without one). There was still a slight roundness to his cheeks that he’d never managed to lose from childhood, but it suited him well. His goldenwheat hair parted to the right, and eyes the color of rich honey bore into him with an intensity that registered in Kei’s mind as familiar. They were  brothers, after all.

“What...” For all his boldness, when faced with the actual questions -- and he undoubtedly had many -- Akiteru seemed to falter. He gesticulated towards the curled up Yamaguchi, eyeing him as if he were some sort of insect that had unexpectedly come to rest on Kei’s pillow. As if he were something dangerous. “What happened out there, Kei?”

The younger brother inhaled a  breath. “I got lost,” he replied, leaning back in his wooden desk chair and studying his brother over the rims of his glasses. It made Akiteru appear respitefully blurry, and Kei found the fuzzy features far pleasanter to look at than the expressions undoubtedly running over Akiteru’s emotive face in that moment.

“What else?” he prompted, his voice tense. “How’d you get that cut on your neck?”

“I walked into a branch. There are too many of them out there -- the woods are dangerous.” Kei clicked his tongue, comfortable disdain on his face as he scratched a speck of dirt from the back of his chair. Lips quirked up slightly, as the memory of a scene from years ago -- almost these exact same words, but with the brothers on opposite ends of the conversation -- replayed itself in his head. This was the irony he found hilarious, in an awful way. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to be honest with me,” Akiteru replied. His expression wasn’t blurry anymore now that Kei was focusing on him. He looked frustrated, frightened, and desperate all at the same time; it was so _wrong_ to see on his face.

Kei cocked his head slightly, smirking. “I am being honest,” he replied, meeting his brother’s stare dead-on. “We’re both so good at telling the truth; I don’t see why you don't want to believe me.”

Akiteru blinked several times, incredulity shadowing his face like a dark cloud coming to hover above his head. “Is _that_ what this is about?”

Kei shrugged. “We all have our secrets. If anything happened out there that was important enough to share, I would tell you. I’m home now. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

He was being harsh, and he knew it -- purposely invoking many of the words his brother had used on him to brush his concerns aside. Akiteru knew it, too, and he looked so hurt that it almost struck a chord in Kei. He was stronger than that, however. He couldn’t tell Akiteru the truth. He wouldn’t, not because he didn’t know how he would react but because maybe he didn’t _deserve_ the truth. In the same way a frustrated, frightened twelve year old hadn’t _deserved_ to know the reason his brother had vanished into the woods for three whole months and then come out half-dead. Compared to a thing like that, Kei’s lies were hardly anything to raise an eyebrow at.

He hoped that would put the entire conversation to rest. He should have known better. This was Akiteru. He could be stubborn as anything, and nothing drove him on more than concern for his little brother. Kei wasn’t expecting him to suddenly lunge forward, so the hand on his shoulder caught him entirely by surprise -- as did Akiteru’s face, eyes wide and beseeching as he knelt by his brother’s side.

“Kei,” he said in a voice quiet enough to be called a whisper. “Please. I’m sorry, just… I need to know you’re okay. I need to know that no one hurt you, that you aren’t -- they didn’t -- because I… gods, I’m sorry. I should have protected you from this. It was my job to keep you safe and I --”

Akiteru’s head dropped, along with Kei’s heart. Oh gods. Was he crying? Instinctively he cringed back, something in his head short-circuiting. He had absolutely no clue how to deal with this. When Akiteru felt him pulling away, however, his grip on his shoulder tightened, and just like that they were hugging.

“I’m sorry, little brother… I’m really, really sorry…”

What was he supposed to do in a situation like this? Kei didn’t have a clue, and his body refused to react to any of the commands his brain sent out. He couldn’t pull away, he couldn’t attempt to comfort his brother -- he had no idea _how_ \-- and he couldn’t even move Akiteru’s head to prevent his shirt from getting all slobbery. This was even worse than the feeling of being totally numb at the hands of… whatever power Hinata had. Because he could feel everything, from Akiteru’s head pressed against his chest to the pain shifting in his stomach and winding it’s way up to constrict his throat. He could feel _everything_ , and could do nothing.

It was agony.

At once, his eyes flickered and landed on Yamaguchi. Suddenly, he was seized with the most ridiculous thought he’d ever had: _what would Yamaguchi do in this situation?_

“Um.” A stiff, wooden hand gingerly patted Akiteru’s back over and over as Kei shifted, moving his shorter brother’s head so that he was crying into his shoulder. “There, there. There. There. There.” (That was a comforting thing that people said, right? Sure. He was good at this.)

Akiteru let out a muffled wail. “A-a-are you trying to make me feel better or are you _hitting_ me?”

Grimacing, Kei withdrew his hand. That was _not_ what he’d had in mind. Curses running through his head at forty miles a minute, he sighed before seizing his brother’s shoulders and pushing him away. Akiteru, suddenly without a shoulder to cry on, looked up at him watery-eyed. His face was cherry red and streaked with tear tracks, and the wet sniffle he gave did little to stop his nose from running. Kei couldn’t help but wince at just how _ugly_ a crier his brother was; he certainly hoped that didn’t run in the family.

“I’m not dead,” he said, very bluntly. Akiteru blinked.

“Quit acting like I died, because I didn’t. I got lost in the woods, and… you were right. I really shouldn’t have gone into the forest alone. I’ve learned my lesson now, and nothing like what happened will ever happen again. I’m alright. So stop acting like it’s your fault, because it wasn’t.”

Akiteru stared at him a long moment before his head tilted. Kei wondered uneasily if he had said the right thing; it wasn’t the tender way to comfort someone, but he’d realized very quickly that he was no good at tenderness. Being blunt was what came easily to him, and it had been the only thing he could think of to assuage Akiteru’s fears. To his relief, as he stared at his brother’s face, he realized that it must have actually worked. Gradually, Akiteru’s pursed lips began to form a tentative half-grin, the kind that Kei has come to recognize as Akiteru’s _“I’m-not-really-sure-whether-you’re-actually-meaning-to-be-nice-right-now-or-not-but-I-appreciate-the-fact-that-you’re-trying”_ smile. It wasn’t the best reaction Kei could have hoped for, but it was a smile. It wasn’t right to see Akiteru cry -- over _him_. Somehow, Kei had made his big brother smile again.

Then Akiteru’s eyes flickered to the side, landing on Kei’s bed and it’s inhabitant. His smile vaniseed as quickly as it appeared. Once more, Kei realized, he was seeing Yamaguchi as a threat that needed to be eliminated as soon as possible. _(What sort of experiences had Akiteru had with the Kyuuketsuki to make him look at Yamaguchi like that?)_

“He's one of them--”

“He’s harmless. And he’ll be gone soon anyway. As soon as possible.”

Kei met his brother’s eyes unflinchingly, and a flicker of affection passed through Akiteru’s gaze. One of his brother’s hands came up suddenly, resting on the side of Kei’s neck before he could flinch back. Kei let out a soft gasp, and Akiteru instantly drew back with wide eyes.

Kei could tell what he wanted just from the way his eyes lingered on his neck. Slowly, he tilted his head and inclined his neck so that his brother could properly examine the two puncture wounds. They’d all but scabbed over by this point, yet still remained an ugly shade of purple, like two dark paint splotches marring otherwise marble skin. He held completely still, barely daring to breathe as his brother’s fingers lightly glanced over the wounds.

“Did it --” Akiteru’s voice was  shaky. “Did it… hurt?”

“I didn’t feel a thing,” he replied, and his words were only a half-lie. “It wasn’t him who did it, anyway. It was an accident. I was okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Akiteru murmured again. “I promise, Kei... I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.” His brother’s eyes were earnest and solemn, but his lip was trembling slightly. More out of fear of more tears than anything else, Kei nudged him with his foot, fixing him with a stern glower.

“You should apologize to mother,” he retorted flatly. “We’re both in here chatting, and we’re letting her make dinner all on her own. That’s not fair, is it?”

Akiteru chuckled slightly -- a breathy, fragile sound, like he still couldn’t quite believe that he had his brother back (as if he’d almost reconciled himself to the fact that he was gone for good). Kei didn’t bother to keep from rolling his eyes, but he knew his brother wouldn’t be offended by it.

Oddly enough, it dawned on him in that moment, with Akiteru chuckling and him fighting the inexplicable urge to smile himself: he didn’t think he'd felt this close to his brother in years. 

* * *

 

_For three years, whenever Tsukishima Akiteru closed his eyes he dreamed of fire._

_Fire beneath his skin; fire in his veins, scorching everything it came into contact with as it trickled thinly from wounds that gauged his neck. Fire caressing his body, touching him, lifting his chin and tilting his head. Fire hot as it ran over his skin, a sharp pain in his neck followed by a sucking sensation that burned more than anything else._

_He remembered seeing dancing red light reflected in russet eyes. He remembered the smell of burning, smouldering pine, the feeling of ash under his fingers. He remembered the taste of a mouth on his, a foreign tongue forcing it’s way past his teeth, lips that tasted acrid as smoke and hot as an inferno. He remembered a voice crooning into his ear, it’s sound as sickly sweet as candyfloss yet sharp as the noise of crackling flame._

_He didn’t remember much else, but these were the memories he had -- over and over again, for as many times as he reminded himself he had **escaped**. He remembered opening his eyes, finding himself at once no longer trapped in the little cave that had been his prison with nothing but the fire to keep him company, but in the dark expanse of forest. He had run, tripped, and escaped. He had come home. He reminded himself of this every day._

_But when he closed his eyes and saw the flames once more, he knew that he was not alone. For as long as he lived, even in the “safety” of his own home, the fire would still be there in the back of his mind._

_And sometimes, he would wake in the middle of the night and swear to all the gods that he could smell the sharp stench of smoke, hear the crackling sound of a voice calling to him from the distance -- from the woods._

_Three months missing._

_Three years home._

_And all that time, he knew he was not alone._

* * *

 

Kei opened his eyes sometime late in the middle of the night -- and he knew this only because the faint light shining through the living room window was clearly that of the moon. He was grested by the sight of eyes peering owlishly down at him.

Later, he’d deny that he had been frightened. The shout he gave out  -- combined with Yamaguchi’s squeal as a reflexive blow to the nose sent his head snapping backwards -- said otherwise.

“What are you _doing_?” Kei demanded as soon as he’d regained a semblance of his composure. Staring wide-eyed at the boy who’d been knocked to the floor by the force of his fist, Kei massaged his hand gently. Yamaguchi sat up, clurching his face, with his brow furrowed.

“Tsukki!” he exclaimed, having the presence of mind to keep his voice down (Kei's parents and brother were only sleeping on the other side of their relatively small house). “That really hurt!”

“Why are you staring at me?”

“I was -- umm --” Suddenly Yamaguchi seemed less injured and far more sheepish. He pulled himself to his feet, not quite meeting the other boy’s eyes. “You look funny when you sleep.”

“Funny?” Kei frowned, feeling more self-conscious than he probably should.

“Not funny as in bad! Funny as in… cute? You scrunch up your nose like a bunny."

In response to his words, Kei's  nose scrunched up. Catching himself, he hastily slackened his face once more. One hand began to fumble around the table in front of him in search of where he’d set his glasses. “That isn’t normal. Humans don’t like it when you watch them sleep. Don’t do that.”

“Oh.” Yamaguchi chuckled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, Tsukki.”

Kei narrowed his eyes, taking in as much of the other boy’s features as he could see in the darkness. “You’re not hungry, are you?”

“What?” Yamaguchi’s eyes widened exponentially. “N-no! Of _course_ not! I mean, even if I was, I wouldn’t just take a bit out of you like that! That’s not -- I mean, that isn’t how we --” He trailed off, clearing his throat  awkwardly. He could without a doubt sense how unimpressed Kei was. “I already ate,” he said at last, softly. “A few days ago. Daichi brought back two humans, and we all fed on them then. I won’t really need food for another few weeks, at least.”

Kei’s lips quirked down. “How often do you eat?”

“Well…” Tentatively, Yamaguchi moved to take a seat on the corner of the coffee table. Kei inwardly scoffed at the impertinence, but didn’t trun to stop him. “All clans are different, I guess, but Karasuno -- that’s us -- we try to feed only once a month, which is about as long as our kind can go without food. If we didn’t eat, we’d die. A single Kyuuketsuki really only needs a bit of blood to sustain them, so we take a few people each month. Suga tranquilizes them and we drink our fill.”

“You kill them.”

“Well, umm…” Yamaguchi cleared his throat, discomfort radiating from him in waves. Kei had a hard time rectifying the harmless-seeming boy in front of him with a hunger driven monster eilling to exsanguinate a human being.

“I try not to think about that. Karasuno keeps a low profile -- it’s safer that way. I know that the Nekoma clan, who keep to the big cities, drain about a human a week. There are even rumours that Shiratorizawa -- they’ve been the strongest clan in the region for a century, now -- all eat one person a _day_. That’s just gluttony, if you ask me, but they’re powerful enough that they can get away with it, and the reason they're so powerful is because they eat like that. If anyone else tried doing something like that, of course, _they’d_ be the ones to stop us.”

Kei tilted his head, his groggy brain processing the new information slowly. Well rested, Yamaguchi now appeared to be in a chatty mood. In Kei's opinion, it was far too late at night to be so chipper. He felt a twinge of annoyance, even as Yamaguchi babbled on. “Some of us can even eat regular food, though we can’t really digest it well. Whenever Asahi bakes, Tanaka always eats everything and makes himself ill, and once I got really sick from eating too many apples, because our bodies can’t process the food like --”

“Yamaguchi.” Kei cut the other boy off abruptly, and Yamaguchi’s mouth shut with a soft ‘clink’ of teeth. He didn’t even look surprised. “You need to go home.”

Yamaguchi blinked, shifting on the couch. There was a look on his face that struck Kei as ominous. He narrowed his eyes behind his dark glasses frames, daring Yamaguchi to say something Kei wouldn’t like. Once more, Yamaguchi proved to be braver (or stupider) than he’d given him credit for.

“Well, that’s the thing, Tsukki,” he replied, forcing a nervous smile. “I can’t go home.”

Kei blinked. “What.”

“I can’t go home. I already told you, I have no idea how to get there! I think -- I'm sure Daichi or Suga will probably come find me once they realize I’m not coming back, and they know the woods much better than I do. But I can’t go home alone. I don’t know how to get back.”

Kei’s eye was twitching violently; a vein pulsed in his left temple. The promise he’d made to Akiteru echoed in his head, and he winced. It was clear that he’d been wrong. As much as both he and his brother would have been happy to see Yamaguchi go, that didn’t seem to be an option.

Of course, Kei knew he couldn’t force the boy out into the unknown alone. The realization that he was going to have to be a good person left him annoyed and kind of mad. Essentially, he was stuck with Yamaguchi for however long it took his other “clan” members to come rescue him.

What was he supposed to do with a real life Kyuuketsuki in his house?

Kei sighed, flopping back down on his pillow again; it was far too late at night for this. He’d deal with all his problems in the morning, when his head was clear and things seemed less serious.

“Go back to sleep, Yamaguchi,” he sighed, rolling on his side and squeezing his eyes shut. “Or… read a book. Do something until morning. Don’t go through any of my drawers.”

For a long moment Yamaguchi was silent, baffled by Kei’s seemingly placid acceptance of the fact that he was stuck with him. When he didn’t speak, Kei almost hoped he’d just gone back to his bedroom again; but then, a quiet chuckle cut through the still night air.

“Goodnight, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi muttered, and Kei pulled the blankets up over his own head.

.......

Somewhere on the other side of the house, Tsukishima Akiteru stood unmoving in front of his bedroom window. In the distant trees, a hint of flame danced tantalizingly before his eyes.

......

Just over three years to the day Akiteru had been lured, willingly or not, into the woods, a wrench had been thrown in his carefully crafted plans. Leaning back against a tree, the Kyuuketsuki allowed the harsh bark to scrape the skin of his shoulders. A long sigh drew itself from his throat.

How strange the world could be sometimes… how _annoying_. You plan and plan, for months, for _years_ , and just when you think it might be time for all your carefully laid little schemes to twine together for their grand climax, something happens that  changes the game.

In this case, his spider's web had been centered around two brothers: Tsukishima Akiteru and Kei. Three years of watching, waiting, greedily anticipating his chance at what he knew would be his rise to power. It all centered around _those_ two. All of a sudden his scheme had been thrown off course -- thanks to one unplanned trip into the woods, and now the addition of an obnoxious freckled fledgeling.

Okay, so he wasn’t exactly a fledgeling, but he was certainly young enough. One of the Karasuno clan, and he supposed he should have expected as much  by how much of a thorn in his side _some_ of their members had proven to be. Yet he’d never heard of Yamaguchi Tadashi. The boy had never been notable enough to warrant his attention.

At least not until now, when he seemed to have formed an unlikely attachment to what was  _not_ _his_ _prey_.

Yamaguchi’s inclination to follow Kei around like a loyal dog was strange enough. Their kind didn’t befriend humans, they _ate_ them, and they all knew that well. Either the boy was out of his mind or stupid.

Frankly, he didn’t know, and didn’t care. But he was annoyed.

The Tsukishima brothers were his prey. They were _his_. They had been his ever since the day Akiteru had so trustingly followed him into the dense forest without as much as a glance over his shoulder. They would be his right until he personally drained every drop of lifeblood from both of their necks.

He had never counted on Kei discovering the existence of Kyuuketsuki, learning more than even his brother had learned in his three months of foggy captivity. He certainly hadn’t counted on an annoying little boy deciding that Kei was going to be his new best friend, and following him home.

He let out another snort of annoyance, running his nails down the bark of the tree and leaving long slash lines in his wake. How annoying.

He wasn’t about to give up his prize; after so long waiting, spending an almost unheard of amount of time stalking prey even as they grew older and stronger, he couldn’t give up. Tsukishima Akiteru and Kei would be his, one way or the other. If his clan had to go up against the whole of pathetic Karasuno, even _Kageyama Tobio_ , to do it, then so be it.

He would be the most powerful Kyuuketsuki in Japan. He wouldn’t let one little tiny nuisance stop him.

In fact, he mused, as from all the way across the clearing he kept Akiteru’s eyes locked firmly on his own, maybe he could use this annoyance to his advantage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whaaat, whoa, look at that, some actual plotty stuff
> 
> Ten points to whoever can guess who the Menacing Mystery Villain is at the end there! then again, maybe I made it way too obvious. In case you can't tell, he's my favorite character (even more than Yama bby, which is saying something).


	6. Chapter 6

Kei glowered down at his breakfast -- some sort of mush with a vague frusty flavor, wholly deserving of the waves of disgust that his glare emanaged.

He was sulking. It was probably obvious. Yet somehow the inclusion of Yamaguchi into his family’s breakfast-time conversation left him completely unable to care less. Quite contrary to his own expectations upon dragging himself from sleep that morning, he now had the freedom to look as grouchy and exhausted as he wished; no one was paying attention to _him_ anyway.

Out of common courtesy, Kei’s parents had invited Yamaguchi to join the family for breakfast -- they were eager to thank the boy who had been such a "help" to their son. Kei hastily explained his cover story to Yamaguchi in the time it took to walk from his bedroom to the kitchen. Yamaguchi had seized upon it with zearl. Throughout breakfast, he’d proved himself to be _“an utter delight”,_  entertaining every one of Kei's parents' questions about life in his own village with ease and surprising knowledge. Before becoming what he was today, Yamaguchi must have lived a life similar to the one that he described so warmly to his mother -- one not that different from Kei’s own.

Yamaguchi was a baker’s son, he explained; an only child, following a sickness that took his father's life when he was little more than an infant. He’d grown up in a less rural environment than the Tsukishima farmstead, and the majority of his life had been spent helping his mother in the bakery and playing with other children in his village. An entirely _normal_ childhood. How, Kei could not help but wonder, had someone like _Yamaguchi_ ended up not-quite-dead and feeding off human blood to survive?

“How old are you, Tadashi?” enquired Kei’s mother, her voice warm as she spooned another helping of fruit onto Yamaguchi’s plate. The Kyuuketsuki, Kei noted, was eating just enough to be polite, moving the food around on his plate to give the impression of having consumed more than he actually had.

“Fifteen,” the boy replied, murmuring a ‘thank you’ for the fruit. Sullenly, Kei hid his mouth in his water glass and glared at Yamaguchi through narrowed eyes. “My birthday is in November.”

“Kei’s just turned sixteen,” Akiteru supplied gamely -- for goodness sake, even _Akiteru_ seemed taken in by Yamaguchi, and now he was giving out personal information. “He likes to act like he’s older than all the rest of us.”

“I do not,” he muttered, scowling.

“You do, and it makes you seem like an old man.”

Yamaguchi snickered behind his hand, meeting Kei’s irritated gaze for a fraction of a second before wisely averting his eyes. He might be brave enough to face down some of Kei’s worse glares, but  he could recognize the metaphorical flashing _‘SHUT UP’_ sign hovering over the other boy's head.

Akiteru could see the sign just as clearly; he didn’t _care._  Another crooked smile was flashed across the table in Kei's direction. Even though Kei could tell he still wasn’t quite comfortable around Yamaguchi, Akiteru was still putting effort into acting like everything was normal. There was something comforting about that grin.

Maybe when Yamaguchi's lips quirked up shyly, glancing at Kei over a plate full of food he was  pretending to eat, there was something a bit nice about that smile as well.

* * *

“Your family is very nice,” Yamaguchi spoke up from where he had made himself comfortable curled up on his bed. Kei ‘hmm’ed his agreement, hunched over his desk and studying the figures in the book with an intensity most students would envy. Not that he really cared about geometric figures; but the book offered a welcome distraction from the second presence in his room.

A part of him marveled at how easily his family had accepted Yamaguchi. He’d been hesitant about letting the boy around Akiteru especially, knowing his brother’s specific… concerns. Sure, Yamaguchi and Akiteru hadn’t gotten too close to one another during breakfast; but Yamaguchi hadn’t snapped and tried to drink his brother’s blood, and Akiteru hadn’t pulled out a stake and started chasing Yamaguchi around the kitchen. Overall, he supposed, things had gone well.

“Ugh.” Yamaguchi huffed from behind him, causing one pale eyebrow to raise slightly, though Kei didn’t bother glancing back. “Human food really doesn’t agree with me.”

“Are you dying? Or are you going to vomit on my bed?”

“Ah, no, no!” The creak of the mattress alerted him to Yamaguchi probably sitting up, followed by a light laugh that somehow got under Kei's skin. He didn’t _appreciate_ being laughed at, especially when all he'd done was ask a reasonable question. “Human food is absorbed by our bodies after a while. I didn’t eat that much, anyway -- though your mother’s cooking is very good!”

“You compliment people too much,” Kei remarked, fist tightening around the pencil in his hand. Maybe _that_ was why his family liked Yamaguchi so much.

Yamaguchi didn’t speak for a moment; and then, with a noise that sounded like a laugh _(again_ with the laughing), he asked, “Tsukki -- are you jealous that your family liked me?”

Oh. _No._ He hadn’t said that last thought out loud, had he? Kei paused, eyes widening slightly as he realized that his mouth had just been moving _._ What was _wrong_ with him?

“I’m not jealous,” he retorted in a flay tone. He knew as well as Yamaguchi did that he was lying. More snickering started up from the bed, light and disbelieving, forcing Kei to spin around in his seat. Yamaguchi was sitting hunched in on himself, muffling giggles into the palms of his hands. Kei found himself unamused.

“Is that your power, then?” he demanded. “You just _make_ people like you?” That would explain some things, he thought sullenly,  like the strange way  Yamaguchi’s company was beginning to seem almost _tolerable_ at times. Some times. Certainly not right now.

“Hmm?”

The boy glanced up, eyes wide and questioning; then he gave a shake of his head. His smile had vanished from his face as quickly as it appeared. Now serious in a way that didn’t quite suit him, Kei decided that he preferred when Yamaguchi smiled  -- as long as he wasn’t laughing at _him._ “Oh. No. That’s more Suga’s power than mine. Everyone likes Suga.”

Kei tilted his head, considering this for a brief moment. He wasn’t wrong; Sugawara did have a certain charm about him, and Kei doubted that it all came from the power he possessed. Did Kyuuketsuki powers work that way? Did they have to do with the way a person was when they were alive, or were they based on personality traits that someone had always displayed? If so, Sugawara’s… existence would probably make sense. As would the short fireball named Nishinoya, who could run across a room in the blink of an eye. Enhanced speed seemed a natural extension of him, and he handled it wit's ease. At once, it dawned on Kei that he’d never learned just what Yamaguchi’s  power was.

Though he said nothing, the look in his eyes made it clear that he wanted Yamaguchi to keep talking. The other boy obliged, though his discomfort with the subject was given away by the unsettled look in his eyes. “Asahi can turn into a bear, you know, but he hates that power because he hates bears and thinks they’re scary. Tanaka has super strength, and is constantly punching holes in walls. Shimizu gets visions of the future sometimes, and Yachi’s power is _really_ cool! She can create illusions, like things that you see and that look real but aren’t really there. She’s not very good at it, though, so she tries not to do it very much -- umm---” Kei’s glare was causing him to falter.

“Keep going,” Kei pressed mildly, knowing that Yamaguchi had to get to his own power at some point.

“Umm… Kinoshita and Narita can turn into bats! That’s all they can do, though, and Ennoshita can make himself invisible… Hinata and Kageyama are a destructive force all on their own, but their powers are both really interesting. Hinata can feel people’s emotions and sort of play with them, like making a certain one stronger or weaker whenever he feels like it, only he tries not to do that because he says it ‘weirds him out’. And Kageyama, he gives an order and you just _have_ to do it, just like that, like you don’t even think before you’re doing it, but he’s trying to not use that so much -- and -- and…”

His words had finally run out. Kei rested his chin on his palm boredly (unwilling to admit just how much the idea of powers  intrigued him). Yamaguchi ducked his head, unable to meet Kei’s eyes. The sigh that dragged from his throat rang long and long in the silence between them.

“I… don’t know what you want me to say, Tsukki,” he muttered after a few moments. Kei tilted his head.

“What do you do?”

“That’s the thing.” Yamaguchi ran a hand through his hair, mussing it even further. “I.. I _can’t…”_

“Hey, Kei!”

Both boys started when the voice of Akiteru suddenly cut through the air. Poking his head in without knocking (again), Akiteru grinned when he saw Kei sitting in his chair with a pencil tucked behind his ear. The focused frown on his face called to mind some  brooding ancient philosopher. His expression barely faltered when he caught sight of Yamaguchi on Kei’s bed.

“I’m going into town,” he said, his voice carefully maintaining the same level of enthusiasm. “Do you want to come with me? The both of you,” he added, glancing at Yamaguchi with a nod. “A lot of people will be glad to see that you’re back, Kei, and maybe we can even pick up some new books or candy.”

Kei blinked at him, unenthused. Akiteru knew perfectly well that he’d lost his sweet tooth for everything but shortcake around the time he’d turned ten; he also knew that his little brother would want nothing to do with nosy townspeople; and probably was even aware that bringing Yamaguchi out in the daylight was a very bad idea.

He was seconds away from refusing when, to his surprise, Yamaguchi spoke first.

“Sure.”

He pushed himself up from the bed, stepping towards Akiteru with a contained grin on his face that Kei couldn’t make sense of. he blinked afree Yamaguchi, baffled. What on earth was he doing?

Even Yamaguchi didn’t seem totally sure of himself, there was a resolute look in his eye that suggested he wasn’t about to change his mind even if part of him wanted to. _Stubborn,_ Kei thought, sighing to himself.

“Great.” Akiteru smiled, taking a step towards the Kyuuketsuki standing in front of him. Something in Yamaguchi’s posture tensed. “By the way, Yamaguchi. I know we met at breakfast, but since I didn’t really get a chance to introduce myself, now is as good a time as ever.” He held out his hand, a glimmer in his eyes that Kei couldn’t quite identify. “I’m Akiteru -- Kei’s favorite and only big brother.”

Yamaguchi smiled, but it was a wooden one; it didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. When he shook Akiteru’s hand, his entire posture screamed of discomfort. Almost immediately after Akiteru released him he took a large step back, practically taking refuge beside Kei once more. Akiteru grinned at them both. If he noticed Yamaguchi’s odd reaction he didn’t show it.

“We’ll leave in ten minutes, then,” he said, and shut the door in his wake.

Brow furrowed, Kei stared at the place his brother had just been for a long moment, before his gaze flickered up towards Yamaguchi. The other boy, too, was boring into the door with an oddly intense stare. His own face was clouded with apparent confusion.

“By the way,” he remarked after a moment, turning to look at Tsukishima with wide eyes, “did you know that your brother has been marked by another Kyuuketsuki?”

* * *

Their village wasn’t a large one -- perhaps a few hundred people making up the population at any given time -- but it was the very home that the Tsukishima brothers had known for their entire lives. They’d grown up on these streets, amidst the familiarity of flower carts and fish vendors, book shops and bakeries. Most people in town knew each other by face if not by name. Naturally, the news that a local boy had vanished into the woods had spread quickly among the common folk, and word that he’d returned was just catching up with them when the face of Tsukishima Kei made a reappearance on their streets.

He always tried his best to avoid people; they inevitably found him anyway. It was all he could do to not be rude as he withstood the tide of questions from curious family friends and acquaintances. Yes, he had been lost in the woods for a few days. Y _es,_ he’d come back just yesterday. Yes, of _course_ he was fine, he was right _here_ \-- Akiteru had mercifully swooped in and rescued him at that point, keenly aware of the disaster that could result from forcing his brother into prolonged human interaction. This was fine with both of them. Akiteru had always been a much more tactful creature, far more fond of people.

Yamaguchi, however, was his own spectacle; and one Kei couldn’t help observing.

The Kyuuketsuki seemed taken in by everything he saw, from the mannequins in the window of a tailor’s shop to the street vendors calling out their wares. His stories from breakfast suggested that he wasn’t unfamiliar with such an environment, but there was still awe in his eyes. Indeed, he seemed much like someone returning back to familiar settings following a long vacation. Dark eyes shone with recognition, foreign-yet-familiar streets lined heavy with memories almost lost to years gone by. He held tight to Kei's arm -- somehow, he didn’t  have the heart to shake the other boy off -- and exclaimed over any little thing that caught his eye.

Even the simple sounds of children shrieking as they chased a ball through the streets excited Yamaguchi. It was almost amusing, Kei thought as he watched Yamaguchi pick up the toy and offer to play catch with the kids; in a way, he didn’t seem  older than fifteen at all. He practically gave off the impression of being a _child_ sometimes, with his effortless enthusiasm and wonder over everything he saw in the tiny village. A stand of knick-knacks held his attention for ten minutes. He kept gasping over this and that, his favorite item a small silver firefly charm that he held up repeatedly because, according to him, it _“looks like you, Tsukki!”_ Somehow, Kei grudgingly managed to tolerate the other boy’s gushing.

“Look, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi  exclaimed with a grin, pointing down the street towards the town’s only bookshop. Of all the places in town, this was probably Kei’s favorite haunt. The fact that it had caught Yamaguchi’s eye was surprising. He barely had time to open his mouth before Yamaguchi was pulling him towards the little shop, pace so quick and excited that Kei was reduced to stumbling along at his heels.

There were worse places, he supposed, to lose yourself in than a bookstore. The woods, for example.

When Akiteru found them there almost an hour later, he didn’t look at all surprised to find Yamaguchi and Kei, curled up at the foot of one of the towering bookshelves, leaning slightly against each other as they thumbed through respective volumes. Kei’s book was about dinosaurs; Yamaguchi's had something to do with astronomy, but although they were close enough for him to read over the other boy’s shoulder he didn’t bother. It was too easy to lose track of time in that familiar shop, with the comforting hum of silence around him and the unspeaking presence by his side. The fact that the only sounds of steady breathing echoing throughout the shop were his own could easily be ignored. So, too, could Yamaguchi's just-too-cold body temperature whenever their shoulders touched.

By the time they started back, following the long dirt road that led from town up to the more remote Tsukishima farmstead, the sky was beginning to darken. Kei and Yamaguchi both gladly accepted some of the burden of the bags Akiteru had picked up while they had been amusing themselves. His brother even bought Kei the book he’d been looking at, a gesture which earned him a subdued but genuine mumble of thanks.

Leaves crunched underfoot as the  teenagers walked side by side up the road, Akiteru leading a few yards ahead of them. Golden eyes flickered towards the freckled boy walking at his right. The hood which Yamaguchi had kept carefully pulled over his head all day had finally fallen back, allowing Kei to glimpse the ashy paleness of his cheeks in the fading light. Yamaguchi’s eyes were wide, still lit with excitement from the day’s events; the ghost of a smile persisted in tugging at the corners of his lips. Kei wasn’t  sure what prompted him to make conversation, but he did anyway.

“You had fun today.”

Yamaguchi nodded his head earnestly, hoisting one of the bags on his shoulder. A faint grin played over his lips as he stared forward at the road ahead. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been anywhere like that. In town, with so many people everywhere. Too long, maybe.”

Kei blinked, frowning. As if sensing the unspoken question, Yamaguchi tilted his head towards him. Eyes caught his, and then flickered back to the ground again. He seemed to deliberate a moment before he spoke, as if searching for the right words.

“I don’t really know,” he said at last, in a soft voice, “how many years it’s been… five, maybe, if I had to guess.”

“How did it happen?”

Yamaguchi shrugged, pressing his lips into a thin line. They didn’t change color with the pressure. “I ran away from home, I think. I remember being upset with my ma. I don't remember why. I ran off into the woods. After that, I guess things get… fuzzy.” He shook his head slightly. “I don’t remember much about being turned… or after, really. I was alone until Sugawara found me, living off mostly animals. I wasn’t really healthy or… _all there,_ mentally, until I drank human blood. Karasuno gave me that. It’s only after joining them that things really become clear again.”

Kei blinked in the dying daylight, unanswered questions still abuzz in his head. Yamaguchi’s words from before hadn’t left his mind since he’d spoken them -- his brother, “marked” by some other Kyuuketsuki. It made sense, he supposed. After what Akiteru had been through, of course he still carried something residual. But Yamaguchi had actually looked frightened. The concept of runaways being picked off in the woods, the very woods that surrounded his home, wasn’t a  tantalizing idea either. Even if Yamaguchi hadn’t brought it up, there was still the pressing question of just _who_ had turned him if not Karasuno. Could it have been Sugawara? Could he have been attacked by another Kyuuketsuki, and had it been an accident? (What had Sugawara said before -- the turning process was more “intimate” than simple accident?)

There were too many questions and not enough answers. It was troublesome, and Kei didn’t want to care as much as he did.

“Do you regret it?”

His question was sudden; next to him, Yamaguchi made a soft noise of surprise, the shopping bag almost slipping off his shoulder. He didn’t pause in his step, but his gait faltered a bit. Kei heard him inhale a useless breath before answering.

“I do. Some days more than others. There’s a lot I miss about living. Death is lonely.”

Kei remained silent, his eyes trained on the back of his brother, walking ahead of him. He didn’t look at Yamaguchi.

“Sometimes, though…” The other boy’s voice was hesitant. “Something nice happens. Something changes. And then, I guess... things aren’t as bad anymore.”

Kei couldn’t help the subtle warmth that spread in his chest, or the traitorous whisper that pervaded the cracks of his consciousness with its soft murmur of _I’m glad._ He didn’t want to think about what it could mean. He didn’t care, he reminded himself, pulling his shopping bags closer to his chest.

……

By the time Yamaguchi got back to Kei’s house, he was visibly on edge. Kei seized the other boy by the hand and dragged him past his parents, an effective method of dodging any questions they might have had (example: _“When are you going home, Tadashi?”_ ). They returned to his bedroom. Kei placed his brand new book on the shelf above his desk, whole Yamaguchi sat on his knees upon the bed.

He knew it wasn’t on purpose; but after what felt like the hundredth squeak of the mattress springs, the dark glare Kei cast over his shoulder left little room for sympathy. “Can you _stop_ bouncing?”

“I’m not bouncing,” the boy replied. He bounced again. The mattress screamed.

“Yes, you are.”

Yamaguchi grimaced, pressing his palms down on his knees as if the added pressure would keep them  still. “Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

Kei stared at him for a second before turning his back again, not about to push the inquiry further. He heard rustling on his bed and then, “They’ll be here pretty soon, you know.”

That got his attention. _“Who?”_

Slightly surprised at how faft the other boy had spun around, Yamaguchi tilted his head. Kei recognized the look on his face as the same one he'd been giving the other boy earlier -- that baffled expression that implied the answer to his question was really, really obvious. “Daichi-san and Sugawara-san. They’re pretty close, and getting closer. I can sense them.”

“H- how do they know where you are?”

“Well, they can sense me just as well as I can sense them, since we’re clan members and all. Besides…” Dark eyes met Kei’s alarm serenely, looking quizzical. “Where else would I be?”

Kei took a single moment to sit very, very still, reflecting on his life choices and wondering  _how_ he’d managed to get here. He had always been so good… so very good and antisocial throughout his life. All that had happened this week really wasn’t _fair._

“Get up,” he ordered, abruptly rising from his chair. He reached for his coat, slinging it over his shoulders even as he heard Yamaguchi’s baffled “eh?” from behind him. Kei glanced back at him, nodding towards his bedroom door in a gesture that left little room for argument, and proceeded to walk away.

“Mother, Father,” he announced, stepping out into the kitchen. Yamaguchi scrambled after him. “Yamaguchi is leaving.”

“Th- thank you for having me!” Even with no clue whatsoever where they were going, Yamaguchi’s smile was still warm and bright as he bowed and thanked Kei’s parents. They returned his politeness with their own farewells, his even mother going so far as to extend an offer for him to return any time he liked. At this, Yamaguchi blinked wide-eyed before his face split into an even more radiant grin.

“Thank you!”

Akiteru didn’t say much to Yamaguchi; just a small smile, a quick goodbye. Yamaguchi returned it hastily. He still didn’t seem comfortable around Akiteru, but Kei soothed himself with the knowledge that his brother and Yamaguchi would never have to meet again. The word _"marked"_ echoed once more in his mind, and he pushed away the gnawing sensation at the back of his subconscious. He was out the door in as little time as possible, dragging Yamaguchi after him.

The sky was dark and the clearing separating his home from the woods was shrouded in shadow. Eventually Yamaguchi became the one doing most of the leading, because Kei had bad night vision as it was, and stumbling through waist-high grass didn’t help. Perhaps this was the reason it took him so long to catch sight of the figures waiting for them just at the edge of the woods -- one tall and broad-shouldered, and another with moonlight dancing off his hair.

Yamaguchi stopped suddenly, waving his hand, and Tsukishima wasn’t so blind that he couldn’t see Sugawara’s smile.

“Ready to come home, Yamaguchi?”

The shorter boy didn’t let go of Kei’s hand, either out of ignorance or wickedness; he found himself getting dragged the remaining length of the clearing, up until Yamaguchi stopped just short of the other two vampires. He was beaming again, a radiant smile. There was a warm look in his eye when Sugawara clapped him on the back.

“You should have told someone where you were going,” said the other man -- Daichi, if Kei was to assume. He was muscular, with dark hair and eyes, strong in a stable sort of way. The most notable thing about him was the air of authority he seemed to carry. He gave off the impression of being quite old, despite looking about the same age as Sugawara. Kei abruptly remembered where he’d seen this man before, and the smallest smirk tugged at the corners of his lips -- had Yamaguchi tried to tell either of them before he left that night, he had a feeling they would have been a _bit_ too busy.

Yamaguchi chuckled. “Sorry, Daichi-san. Sorry, Suga-san.”

Sugawara shook his head. “Don’t worry. You’re not a child, or a prisoner -- we were only worried. Daichi wanted to go after you last night, but I convinced him to give you just a little time.” He gave that same wink that left Kei feeling vaguely irritated. Kei couldn’t help but huff. He was ignored; this probably should have left him feeling a bit offended.

“I didn’t know how to get home,” Yamaguchi explained. “But Tsukishima was really kind -- he let me sleep in his bed and read some of his books!”

Kei grit his teeth -- _“permission”_ was a relative term, as Yamaguchi hadn’t been shy in helping himself to his new friend’s library. It had kept him entertained, so he hadn’t complained then and certainly wasn’t about to now. He straightened instinctively when Daichi turned to him.

“Tsukishima.” A small smile came over the Kyuuketsuki’s face. “Thank you for looking after Yamaguchi.”

Kei was at a loss as for what to say -- or, indeed, if he should say anything at all. He settled for a soft grunt of acknowledgement, mirroring the gesture of bowing his head. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did.” Yamaguchi’s voice was soft, and Kei couldn’t bring himself to look totally annoyed when he glanced at him. The soft expression on the other boy’s face took him somewhat aback. “You could have left me out there, really easily, and you didn’t have to let me in your home -- but you did. I appreciate that. You’re a really, really great person, Tsukki.”

To his horror, Kei realized his face was flushing. As a sheer act of rebellion, he turned his head away from all three of them. What did Yamaguchi think he would have done? He couldn’t have just left him out there in the woods -- he had little doubt that Yamaguchi would have followed him anyway. Why did it matter to him so much? (And _why on earth_ had he decided to be a nice person for once in his life?)

“Bye, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi whispered, his voice barely louder than the wind whistling through the grass around them. Kei heard him anyway.

“Goodbye, Yamaguchi,” he said, glancing once more at the other boy’s face (freckles, still the first thing he noticed every time he looked at him) before turning away. The grass rustled about his knees, crunching under his feet as he made his way back across the wide clearing. He bit his lip, resisting the urge to turn back and see if they were still standing there or if they had decided to leave when he did.

He looked over his shoulder just once, when he at last reached the fence of his property. Along the treeline, the Kyuuketsuki were nowhere in sight.

With a sigh of relief, Kei opened the gate and returned to his old world once more.

* * *

 

So he thought.

When he slipped his hand under his pillow that night, already half asleep, his hand caught upon something. It was hard and cool in his palm. Immediately he was wide awake. Whatever was under his pillow shouldn’t be there.

He pulled his hand away and stared down at his palm. Through the light drifting in through the window, he studied the small object with something akin to wonder.

_(“Look, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi exclaimed, a mischievous little half-grin on his face as he held the charm up from the stand of other knick-knacks. “It looks like you!” Kei had barely bothered to look; no one else had been paying attention, not the shopkeeper, not Akiteru...)_

He _hadn’t…_

And yet the charm was now sitting under Kei’s pillow, so clearly Yamaguchi _had_ taken it. And then he’d left it… had he forgotten it, or left it for Kei to find?

Very slowly, he closed his hand around the charm. The cool metal  warmed in his palm, and he pressed his lips into a thin line.

He had a feeling he had not seen the last of Yamaguchi Tadashi. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yamaguchi is a rebel child who absolutely just wanted an excuse to visit Tsukishima again.
> 
> Okay, I'm shaping up for this to be ten, maybe twelve chapters. Next chapter, things will really start heating up, both with Yamaguchi and Akiteru. Something is up with big bro Tsukishima, and things can only get worse from here -- because our favorite Mystery Villain (whose identity everyone pretty much already knows) never learned how to give up on what he wants.


	7. Chapter 7

_"... in this present age and for about sixty years past, we have been the hearers and the witnesses of a new series of extraordinary incidents... we are told that dead men, men who have been dead for several months, return from the tomb, are heard to walk about_ _, injuring both men and animals, whose blood they drain thereby making them sick and ill, and at length actually causing death. Nor can men deliver themselves from these terrible visitations, nor secure themselves from these horrid attacks, unless they dig the corpses up from the graves, drive a sharp stake through these bodies, cut off the heads, tear out the hearts; or else they burn the bodies to ashes…”_

_“... the name given to these ghosts is Vampires... that is to say, blood-suckers, and the particulars which are related of them are so singular, so detailed, accompanied with circumstances so probable and so likely, as well as with the most weighty and well-attested legal deposition that it seems impossible not to subscribe to the belief which prevails in these countries that these Apparitions do actually come forth from their graves and that they are able to produce the terrible effects which are so widely and so positively attributed to them…”_

The town bookstore hadn’t had much available on Kyuuketsuki -- or _vampires_ , as they were called in western cultures, among other names -- but Kei had snatched up everything he could find. Books spread out on the floor all around him, he wasn’t quite sure how long he poured over the pages, taking in everything word for word and trying hard to commit it all to memory. He couldn’t forget a thing. He didn’t want to.

On a black string, carefully tied around his wrist, the silver firefly remained cool against his skin.

* * *

Ever since Yamaguchi left, the woods had taken on an eerie feeling. Kei tried not to think about what that could mean. He told himself it was his own paranoia. The knowledge that there were monsters in the woods gnawed at the back of his mind, making him more cautious than usual.

When he let the horses out to graze, he kept his back to the woods. He tried to ignore the pressing feeling of eyes on his back, the sensation that someone was watching him from just beyond the trees. Either out of stubbornness or his own fear, he never looked back, not once for as long as he stood watching the horses. He told himself it was better that way.

He barely stayed outside for twenty minutes. Somehow it felt like an eternity.

That night over dinner, Akiteru asked him if he’d been anywhere near the woods lately. He stared at his brother for a long moment before shaking his head. Kei could not tell whether Akiteru looked relieved.

* * *

 Sometimes he found himself staring too long at the firefly charm.

It was stupid, he told himself. No matter how hard he tried, how much he attempted to throw himself into school and chores, regular day to day life, his thoughts always wandered back to Yamaguchi. _Yamaguchi, in that big castle hidden in the woods. Yamaguchi, with his freckles, quiet voice, and chewed nails. Yamaguchi, playing ball with the children in town, marvelling over a stand of odds and ends, slipping a silver charm in his pocket._

It had been a week, and he knew he probably wasn’t going to see Yamaguchi again. He certainly wasn’t foolish enough to go looking for him.

Still, sometimes when he glanced at the firefly charm he couldn’t help but think of the boy that had given it to him. He wondered if Yamaguchi thought of him too.

* * *

 " _... the story of the Vampyre is founded on an opinion or report which prevailed… towards the beginning of the last century: −− It was then asserted, that, in several places, dead persons had been known to leave their graves, and, by night, to revisit the habitations of their friends; whom they drained of their blood as they slept. The person... was sure to become a Vampyre in their turn...”_

As he frowned down at the book in his lap, his thumb unconsciously stroked a gentle rhythm along the contours of the charm on his wrist.

* * *

“Kei.”

Perhaps it was just his imagination, but silhouetted in his bedroom doorway by fading daylight, Akiteru looked… paler. Sick, perhaps, or maybe just… tired. Kei couldn’t tell, not from where he was sitting on his bed. He didn’t bother getting up.

“Mmm?”

“You should leave your room, you know…” Akiteru made an attempt at what might have been a smile -- a poor imitation of his usual beam. “Get some fresh air.”

“It’s getting dark,” he pointed out, and he told himself he was just being practical. It wasn’t as if Akiteru was offering to do anything with him. They used to play outside together, when Kei was young, but all that had stopped in later years.

Akiteru hummed what was either agreement or acknowledgement. Kei glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. Still his brother lingered, regarding him with a look of fondness in tired eyes.

“Don’t stay up too late reading, okay?”

“I won’t.” Kei turned his gaze back to his book once more, his finger hovering over the button to turn his radio on once again. Music and books were always his favorite company; Akiteru knew that.

“Get some sleep,” his brother said softly. “Or at least try.” One look at his face made it clear that Akiteru certainly hadn’t been getting enough sleep himself. Kei glanced up, quite ready to say so, but his bedroom door was deserted. Quick as a shadow, his brother had slipped away. Lately, this seemed to be his habit.

A nagging part of Kei, that biting subconscious that he always tried to ignore, hissed in the back of his mind that he ought to be concerned. His eyes lingered on the doorway for another long moment; then he turned away again. Akiteru had his own problems. Kei was probably better off not knowing.

…..

He didn’t know what it was that awoke him first. Perhaps it was the cool night air drifting through his open window, chilling him from sleep. It might have been the noise of footsteps, light feet stepping over creaky wooden floors. Or maybe it was just that simple, unmistakable sensation one gets when they know they are not alone. When Kei opened his eyes to a darkened room, he was at once certain of two things: it was far too early to be awake, and someone was in his room.

It had been two weeks, but he  had no trouble recognizing the shadowed figure. The lanky frame and messy hair gave him away immediately.

 _“Yamaguchi!”_ His voice was half-rasp, half-hiss, still slurred from sleep and baffled at the unexpected presence in the middle of his room. His nighttime visitor froze at the sound of his name. Stiff and silent, Yamaguchi slowly turned to face him.

“Hi, Tsukki.”

Yamaguchi offered him a crooked smile, showing off the tips of pointed teeth. For the short amount of time that had passed, the other boy appeared completely unchanged: freckled, wide-eyed, hair just as uncombed as it had been the day Kei last saw him. He had the decency to look sheepish at being caught  breaking and entering in the middle of the night.

“What. _How.”_ Kei was still struggling for coherency; distantly, he wondered just what time it was, and how many hours he’d slept. How long had Yamaguchi been in here for? “How did you get in?”

The boy pointedly tilted his head towards Kei's open bedroom window. “You don’t lock your window. You really should do that.”

“Yes. I should. After all, I wouldn’t want anyone _sneaking in_ during the dead of night, would I?”

His tone was heavy with irritation; but although Kei was trying very, very hard to be annoyed, there was a lightness in his chest at the sight of the Kyuuketsuki. It felt as if a weight preading upon him in Yamaguchi’s absence had suddenly been lifted. How annoying. Surely he hadn’t _missed_ the other boy, had he?

“Sorry, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi chuckled, his tone warm. The laugh and the voice were familiar and comforting. At once Kei had the sensation of being hit in the chest with something blunt. That something: _self-awareness_ , a thing he went through most of his life trying very hard to ignore. In this case, it was impossible; he couldn’t hide from facts that were right in front of his face.

Since Yamaguchi had left, he'd tried to convince himself that his life could return to normal. He could push his near-brush with death from his mind; forget that his brother had fallen victim to attack by a monster; and push away all memories of the baffling  Kyuuketsuki who had followed him home. Kei  _hadn't_ been able to forget, however. In the weeks that had passed he'd found himself thinking of it more and more. Now, with Yamaguchi standing in front of him, realization hit him like a brick. He _couldn't_ forget Yamaguchi, or what he had learned about monsters that night after getting lost in the woods. He had been thinking of Yamaguchi. He'd  _missed_ Yamaguchi. He had even felt lonely without him.

What had Yamaguchi _done_ to him?

Kei was not a person willing or capable of dealing with emotions -- especially not after being rudely awoken in the middle of the night. “You broke into my house,” he spoke between gritted teeth, blunt because he didn't know how else to react, and incredulous because -- well, this wasn't an _ordinary_ situation. “In the middle of the night. You realize that.”

He wasn't sure if it was possible for a bloodless face to flush -- he was pretty certain it wasn't, actually, but it was clear by now that Yamaguchi was bad at being dead. As if only just realizing that  climbing through someone’s window while they were asleep could be considered borderline sinister, the boy fell into a clumsy bow that left Kei rolling his eyes.

“I'm really sorry! I'll leave, if that's what you want! I just, umm….” He trailed off, straightening and grimacing. Kei blinked expectantly. Yamaguchi, for a moment, seemed lost for words. “I… I don't know. I was thinking about you a lot, and I just…”

This was the wrong thing to say. Kei's eyes widened. Yamaguchi didn't miss the gesture. Hastily, he backtracked. “I actually left something here! Last time, I left something, and… I was wondering if you still had it. I came back to get it.”

Kei's own eyes drifted down to his wrist; there was only one thing that Yamaguchi could mean. “The firefly charm? That you stole?”

“Tsukki, you're wearing it!”

“You can't have it back,” he said flatly, other hand curling around the charm.

“Oh.” Yamaguchi didn't even sound disappointed. “Why not?”

“Because…” Kei swore that if his face turned red at that moment, he was going to chuck the nearest object through the open window. Whether the nearest object happened to be a pillow, a book, or Yamaguchi was anyone's guess. However, his body really didn't feel like preserving the sanctity of his belongings or state of mind that night, if the heat rising in his cheeks was any indication. “You left it under my pillow, and I went through the trouble of finding a string to put it on. It's mine now. You can't have it.”

Yamaguchi couldn’t have missed his embarrassment, or the way his excuse seemed a bit too defensive. Still, the Kyuuketsuki wore a crooked half-smile as he loomed (unmenacingly) at the foot of Kei's bed, too awkward to sit down. “That's okay.” His voice was light and soft. Yamaguchi had a funny type of voice, Kei couldn't help but think; not fit for talking too much, yet certainly too pleasant to never make itself heard at all. Dark eyes brushed over Kei's decorated wrist before catching his gaze. Yamaguchi broke into a grin.

“Besides, I think it fits you much better anyhow.”

…..

His parents seemed worried. During breakfast, he could not help but notice the way his father’s eyes flicked between both of his sons, slumped over their plates in a half asleep daze. Their mother might make an offhand mention about how important a good night’s sleep was, or even -- if she was feeling bold that day -- would come right out and remark that they looked tired.

Kei’s excuse was Yamaguchi. It was unsurprisingly hard to get any sleep when there was another person in your room blabbering about anything that crossed his mind. Yamaguchi’s chatter filled the otherwise silent nights, and Kei found that he didn’t even resent it.

His eyes came to rest on his brother, leaning heavily against the table and looking ready to fall asleep with his head cradled in his palm. The dark shadows under his eyes testified to his own lack of rest. A frown tugged at the corner of the Kei's lips. He had his own reasons for exhaustion; what were Akiteru’s?

…..

“You shouldn't be able to just let yourself in whenever you please,” Tsukishima remarked lazily from where he was sprawled out on his bed, book open between propped-up elbows. “There are rules that say Kyuuketsuki can't do that.”

By the fourth time Yamaguchi visited him -- fourth times, in less than two weeks -- Tsukishima had come to three definite conclusions.

The first was that no matter how put out he pretended to be every time Yamaguchi awoke him in the night, either by shaking him gently, whispering, or that one memorable instance when he’d actually fallen through the open window and on to the floor, Yamaguchi had no intention of stopping his visits.

The second realization: he didn’t mind this first point as much as he very probably should have. In fact, he was slowly coming to realize that he hardly minded it at all -- perhaps he even _enjoyed_ the nightly visits.

The third realization: Yamaguchi was probably breaking at least five unspoken codes of his species’ existence just by sheer acquaintance with him. He didn’t know much about Kyuuketsuki, despite the heavy amount of research he’d done; yet one thing was very obvious. Humans and Kyuuketsuki were not _supposed_ to befriend each other in the way that he and Yamaguchi had somehow managed to do. There was a natural order to things -- and the natural order stated that one of them was supposed to be considered either a monster or a meal to the other. Somehow, the natural order had been turned on its head. Perhaps most strangely at all, Tsukishima found that he didn’t mind this in the slightest.

So maybe he had been a bit lonely before Yamaguchi had come around. So what? There were far less interesting friends to have then a demon of the night, he supposed.

Yamaguchi smiled that crooked little smile, humming slightly in response to Tsukishima’s statement. He was sprawled on the bed next to him with his own book, though Tsukishima had the distinct feeling the other boy wasn't really reading. “We can't come into a house unless we’re invited, Tsukki. Your mother did invite me, remember? She said I could visit any time I liked. That’s an invitation.”

Tsukishima didn’t say anything; he recalled his mother’s words very clearly, now, and his only reply was a noncommittal ‘hmphh’.

“Wait a second -- _rules?_ What _rules?_ ”

Tsukishima blinked at Yamaguchi, as if the answer should be obvious. Just because they weren’t written didn’t mean that Kyuuketsuki didn’t have rules to follow, just like every other species. Even so, Yamaguchi seemed somehow incredulous.

“Tsukki, do you mean that you actually went out and _researched_ all about us? Your automatic reaction upon learning that supposedly mythical beings existed was to go and _read_ about them?”

A furrow appeared in the blond’s brow as Yamaguchi began to giggle; his scowl only deepened when the other gasped for air, and seeing his expression caused Yamaguchi’s hysterics to increase even more. “That would be anyone's reaction. It's logical. Why are you laughing?”

“I just…” Yamaguchi pressed his face into his hands. “I never realized what a _nerd_ you are before now!”

“I am not a nerd! I -- oi! Keep your hands off Dino-chan!”

“So cute, so cute!” Yamaguchi cooed, affectionately squeezing the small dinosaur plushie that Tsukishima had kept by his side since infancy. Apparently Dino-chan was the first thing Yamaguchi thought of when the words “Tsukishuma” and “nerd” were associated. Feeling somewhat offended, both on his behalf and Dino-chan’s, Tsukishima made to snatch the plushie from the other boy’s grasp.

“Yama _guchi!”_

With surprising deftness, the other boy managed to evade him; thus commenced a tussling match that lasted until Yamaguchi flopped over the side of the bed and onto the floor with a resounding yelp, still giggling through his teeth. Clutching Dino-chan to his chest, a victorious Tsukishima rolled his eyes at the boy on the ground before turning his attention back to his book again.

……

He only caught Akiteru by accident, and perhaps that was the most disturbing thing about the entire situation. He had been kept up all through the night by Yamaguchi; and only at his friend’s inevitable departure with the rise of the sun had he finally prepared himself for a few hours of sleep. The gentle but distinct sound of the front door closing cast all thoughts of sleep from his head. Yamaguchi always used the window to come and go.

Drowsy-eyed and somewhat annoyed at the interruption, he padded out into the hallway only to stop dead. His eyes widened at the sight of his brother in the doorway; Akiteru, his face flushed from the chill of early morning air, the front door just closed behind him. His brother was equally wide-eyed, staring at Kei with a distinct look of alarm.

“What are you doing?”

“Why are you awake?” Akiteru had an annoying habit of answering questions with other questions. Kei grit his teeth. “It’s six in the morning.”

“You were outside.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“It’s not _safe._ ” This, is anything, should have put an end to the entire discussion right there; he and Akiteru both knew just how dangerous the woods could be at night. Somehow, Tsukishima didn’t like the idea of his brother anywhere near them when the sky was dark and the world seemed just a bit more uncertain. But where on any other day this argument would have given Akiteru pause, he now seemed inexplicably inclined to argue.

“I wasn’t out for long, I just went for a walk. It’s not as if I-”

His brother’s words cut themselves off; Kei’s gaze was hard, and his brother looked too worn down to be any match. “Go to sleep, Kei,” he muttered quietly, toeing off his shoes by the door and carefully avoiding the younger’s eye. “I’ll do the same.”

“You weren’t near the woods, were you?” Kei told himself that it wasn’t any sort of deep familial concern driving him to ask; he was just curious, really, as to where his brother had gone. Akiteru’s eyes flickered to him for a split second, russet brown and unreadable.

“Of course not,” he replied, sounding almost put out at the suggestion. Kei found his shoulders relaxing; he hadn’t even realized that they’d been tense.

“Fine,” he replied flatly, and with that he turned on his heel and marched back to his room. Akiteru’s business, he told himself, was not his business. That was for the best.

He tried to suppress that nagging parasite of concern chewing away at the back of his mind, and he almost succeeded.

…..

“And then Tanaka somehow managed to smash his head through the drywall --- Tsukki? Tsukishima, are you listening?”

“I am,” Tsukishima replied shortly, forcing himself to sit up straighter on the bed and not allow his head to loll against his shoulder. He didn’t want to give himself a crick in his neck.

Yamaguchi peered at him through narrowed eyes. “You seem tired. Are you tired?”

To put it bluntly, Tsukishima was exhausted. Managing the farm was laborious work; on top of not getting enough sleep, as well as the inexplicable worry that had suddenly invaded his mind at the memory of Akiteru sneaking in at night, and his brain felt like a heavy stone sitting inside of his head. His body was heavy, his eyes had quickly grown half-lidded over the course of the night, and frankly he wouldn’t have minded if Yamaguchi had made himself scarce early and just allowed Tsukishima a few more precious hours of sleep. Of course, he couldn’t ask him to do that; Yamaguchi took pleasure from visiting him, and maybe Tsukishima even felt the same (he was still trying to come to terms with the concept of having a “friend”).

“Of course I'm tired. You keep waking me up in the middle of the night.”

“You should go to sleep, then,” replied Yamaguchi, tilting his head. He’d become accustomed enough to Tsukishima by now that his gruff tone didn’t even bother him.

The suggestion was ridiculous. Tsukishima scoffed. “And let you watch me all night long? No. That's creepy, Yamaguchi.”

“I wouldn't watch you. I wouldn't even stay for long, I promise. I have to be back before the sun anyway. Just lay down and sleep.”

“Not -- tired.”Tsukishima’s statement might have been valid, had a massive yawn not punctuated the middle of his sentence. His mouth closed and automatically set into a scowl, only deepening at the soft sound of Yamaguchi giggling from behind him. The other boy shifted on the bed, pushing himself into a sitting position, and Tsukishima tried his hardest to ignore him.

“You just said you were, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima wasn’t answering. He was determined. Perhaps sensing that, Yamaguchi let out a long sigh before leaning slightly to the side -- accidentally-on-purpose nudging Tsukishima until he flopped sideways and landed with his face on his pillow. Irritated as he was, the blond couldn’t quite summon the energy to push himself up again. It didn’t matter, really; he could see Yamaguchi’s grin even while laying down. “Do you want me to sing you a lullaby?”

The expression on Yamaguchi’s face could either suggest that he was messing with him, or that he was dead serious and genuinely delighted at the prospect of sharing his lullaby-singing prowess with the world-at-large. Tsukishima had no clue. “I _actually_ can't tell if you're serious or not.”

“I am.” Yamaguchi nodded, attempting a solemn expression. “My mom had this one she used to sing to me when I was really little -- and I still remember the tune! It always used to make me go to sleep really quickly. It was just like…” And before Tsukishima could even stop him, Yamaguchi had actually begun to hum out a melody.

“Stop,” Tsukishima groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in a misguided effort to block him out. Actively ignoring his friend, Yamaguchi continued with his tune, slow as a hymn and light as a daydream. Tsukishima kicked his foot out at the other boy, but it only inspired Yamaguchi to flop down by his side, where he didn’t have the energy to push his foot to reach. Even closer to his ears now, it was impossible to escape Yamaguchi’s gentle little lullaby.

“Yamaguchi…” Tsukishima blinked his eyes blearily and yawned. It dawned on him at once that he genuinely couldn’t remember the last time anyone had sung him a lullaby, or seen him off to sleep; he had always thought falling asleep next to someone would be embarrassing. Yet somehow, with Yamaguchi’s body laying next to him and the gentle sound of humming lulling him into a relaxed state, he found that it wasn’t so bad at all. It felt… warm. Safe.

It was easy to feel safe around Yamaguchi, Kei thought suddenly; and of all the realizations he’d had since that night he’d gotten lost in the woods, this was perhaps the most startling. Even on the cusp of sleep, it jolted him a bit; he had never really felt safe around anyone since he’d seen his brother come stumbling out of the woods drenched in blood.

What on earth made Yamaguchi so different?

Yamaguchi’s humming continued for a few moments, the boy’s eyes absently tracing the cracks in Tsukishima’s ceiling. It was easy to imagine he was creating constellations out of the spider-like breaks in the plaster that hung above them; the action was as soothing as the humming, and gradually Yamaguchi realized he was relaxing more and more against Tsukishima’s side. The other boy wasn’t saying anything, his breaths coming deep and even; Yamaguchi’s eyes flickered over to him, song dying in his throat.

“...like that,” he whispered, his voice soft. Tsukishima didn’t reply. “And I used to get really sleepy when -- Tsukki?” Somewhat tentatively, he reached a hand out and brushed it against the other boy’s defined cheekbone; there was no reaction from the blond, and gradually Yamaguchi’s lips formed a sort of drowsy half-grin. “Oh,” was all he said, and for a moment he just allowed himself to become lost in the moment; laying in bed with the warmth of a human body next to him, steady heartbeat and deep breathing filling the otherwise silence of the room. Laying next to Tsukishima, Yamaguchi found -- in the way he so frequently did when around the blond -- himself feeling more alive than he had in a very long time.

Softly, he picked up the tune again where he’d left off, and the sound of his humming mingled with Tsukishima’s breathing to fill the night air with sounds that reminded him of what it felt like to be alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two works cited are:  
> Dissertations sur les Apparitions des Anges, des Démons et des Esprits, et sur les Revenants et Vampires, Dom Augustin Calmet, 1746  
> The Vampyre, John Stagg, 1812
> 
> This broke away from my usual chapter structure a bit by being very 'snapshotty'; all the chapters aren't going to be like this, but we have to break into the next part of the action so I'm trying to carry on as efficiently as possible. And YES, the ending was entirely self-indulgent. Sleepy cuddles are my absolute favorite things in the world, and Yama is completely weak for seeing Tsukki doing anything less than frowning, so I probably had more fun with that scene than I should have.


	8. Chapter 8

When Tsukishima opened his eyes sometime that next morning, it was once more with the incontestable feeling that he was not alone. This wasn’t the same, distant sense of another presence that he sometimes got when Yamaguchi snuck into his room at night. That sort of mild unease, a shift in his boundaries, was reasonable; it was almost something he’d become used to by now. This was different; this sense of intrusion was personal, physical, up close. _Too close,_ he realized at once. He wasn’t _sensing_ any other presence at all; it was what he could feel, pressed up against his back, curling slightly into his side. One arm slung over his stomach; a face pressed close to his neck, a lack of breathing where there by all rights should have been the steady inhale and exhale of breath. At once, Tsukishima felt his blood run cold.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He really hadn’t. There had just been something so soothing about the night, so intensely personal and private and _theirs_ \-- it was a sense of safety that he rarely felt around anyone else, and this combined with exhaustion and the gentleness of Yamaguchi’s humming had lulled him off before he even realized it.

But _this_ … this was something else.

Yamaguchi wasn’t moving. He was pressed up right against him, holding him, _snuggling_ him for goodness sake -- and he was _not moving._

Tsukishima suddenly had the horrifically ironic thought that Yamaguchi was as still as if he had died. This thought was amusing (in the worst way) for all of two seconds before he remembered that _yes,_ Yamaguchi was quite literally no longer alive. He was actually cuddling with a reanimated corpse.

Somehow, this thought did not disturb him quite as much as the fact that he was actually _cuddling_ with someone. This probably said quite a bit about his character, but Tsukishima was still far too sleep-fogged and alarmed to indulge in the wonders of self-analysis.

Carefully -- ever so carefully, so as not to accidentally shift the wrong way and wind up with a pointed tooth impaled in his neck (Yamaguchi’s fangs were far too close for comfort, just like the rest of him) -- Tsukishima rolled onto his back. He was unimpressed -- yet entirely unsurprised -- to be met with the serene face of a slumbering Kyuuketsuki.

It wasn’t really a shock. It had been maybe a few hours to sunrise when Tsukishima had dropped off, and even though Yamaguchi had assured him that he’d leave once he’d fallen asleep neither one of them had really taken those words seriously. Yamaguchi had probably stayed up past his bedtime as it was. Still, seeing the other boy fast asleep and quite literally on top of him (now his face was smushed against Tsukishima’s collar bone, his elbow was digging into his ribs, and it was really quite unpleasant) had somehow not been what Tsukishima had been expecting.

With a slight grunt, he shifted. Yamaguchi didn’t budge.

He tried again. This time the boy gave a bit, and for a split second Tsukishima was almost sure he was about to roll off of him. Then, a hand casually drifted up in an uncoordinated arch and smacked him clear in the nose.

Tsukishima let out a yelp that was so loud he was surprised the entire farmstead, village, and forest were not promptly roused from their slumber. His nose was throbbing, and through he was relieved that it wasn’t bleeding Yamaguchi’s hand was now in his hair and had somehow twined itself in his shallow curls. On top of him, Yamaguchi let out an unconscious sigh, and Tsukishima fought the urge to scream again.

His savior came in the absolute worst form imaginable; Akiteru, shirtless and in nothing but boxers, his hair mussed and eyes still unfocused from sleep. There was a somewhat frantic look in his older brother’s eyes as he promptly burst open the door, obviously expecting to come face to face with whatever great danger was threatening his precious baby brother. Slowly, the soup ladle he’d been brandishing heroically in front of him dropped to his side; his expression was replaced by one of utter bafflement.

“Am I... interrupting something?”

If looks could kill, Kei felt as if he would have leveled the entire house by now. _“Help. Me,”_ he ground out through gritted teeth, glaring at his brother best he could from under the clingy hold of Yamaguchi.

Akiteru tilted his head, taking in the sight of the boy now utterly sprawled on top of the younger Tsukishima; a slight flicker of disapproval crossed his gaze when he recognized Yamaguchi, but it was quickly replaced with a teasing smirk as he shrugged, making to turn his back on them both. “I don’t know, Kei, it seems like you’re handling this pretty well --”

Kei was not a person to become easily flustered in any normal situation. This could hardly count as a normal situation. “A- Akiteru!”

The young man froze in the doorway, remaining still for one agonizingly long moment before at last turning back to his brother with a sly grin on his face.

“You’re lucky I’m such a good big brother. You know that?”

“This isn’t funny.”

“I’m sure Father would have found it hilarious. Would you like me to go get him now?”

“Don’t you _dare._ ”

……

And that is the reason breakfast that morning was carried out in a sort of tense air of pleasantry -- forced, not entirely disgenuine, yet distinctly nervous. To be fair, both Akiteru and Kei had very good reasons to be nervous.

Kei’s main concern had been exactly how difficult it had been to prop Yamaguchi up in his closet in a way that didn't make him look like the dead body he actually was (the fact that they had dropped the Kyuuketsuki on his head more than once also probably didn't help matters, but Yamaguchi certainly took the phrase “sleeps like the dead” to an ironic new level). If his parents discovered him keeping an unconscious boy locked in his bedroom closet, it would doubtlessly lead to plenty of awkward conversations he'd prefer to avoid. Not to mention having a Kyuuketsuki suffering from brain damage (thanks to the aforementioned numerous drops on the head) in his room would probably just be kind of troublesome for everyone in the house. His objective was to get Yamaguchi up and out of the way as soon as possible.

Akiteru was nervous for much different reasons. These were no less valid than his little brother’s, but much less detail-oriented. If Kei had to make a guess, he'd say that Aliteru’s main concern was the _actual blood-drinking creature of the night in the house and somehow unconscious in his brother’s closet_. This, to be fair, was a _very_ valid concern.

“Akiteru.” His mother’s voice was even, casual. “You're not eating your eggs.”

The young man shrugged, obviously trying to affect a nonchalant air as he picked up his fork again. “Sorry. Just distracted, I guess.”

“Kei must be distracted too,” observed their father coolly. “He's barely touched his food.”

“I'm not hungry.”

He wasn't hungry; Kei’s mind was abuzz for much different reasons. If his parents walked in on the Kyuuketsuki in his bedroom, how would he even begin to explain it? Would that mean Yamaguchi’s nighttime visits would have to come to an end? At the thought, he felt a slight twinge in his gut; the idea of his friend no longer visiting left him feeling surprisingly hollow.

This, he supposed, was what it felt like to be attached to someone.

He hated it.

His eyes flickered to his brother. Akiteru sat stiffly in his seat, pale brow furrowed as he glared down at the meal before him. He seemed, Kei mused, to be trying to discover the secrets of the universe in a glass of water, and it might have made Kei crack a smirk had he not been all too aware of the thoughts running through Akiteru’s head. He was thinking the exact same thing; _what on earth were they going to do with Yamaguchi?_

And his parents, delightfully oblivious souls that they were, didn't suspect a thing. His father grunted into his coffee grinds; his mother lightly urged her youngest son to try some bread. The atmosphere was oddly heavy, for such a light conversation. It was as if the very house itself could somehow sense that someone was there who should not be.

Kei was good under pressure. Akiteru… tried his best.

He watched his brother gnaw violently on his lip for several more long minutes, seemingly in deep contemplation; then, abruptly enough that their father nearly spilt his coffee, Akiteru stood up.

“I'm going -- umm -- to my _room,_ now. I left -- things back there. I need… to, you know, get them, so -- yeah. I'll be back!”

Akiteru promptly power-walked out of the kitchen, straight down the hallway. Out of the corner of his eye, Kei watched him breeze past his own room. Neither one of their parents seemed to notice.

His mother frowned. “Do you think Akiteru is feeling okay?”

Kei frowned, shrugging dispassionately. “He's always strange.”

His father mirrored his youngest son's gesture, placing his now empty mug down on the counter and frowning as if it's lack of liquid had personally offended him in some manner.

His mother was frowning too; they had become a frowning trifecta, the three of them, without Akiteru’s usual sunshine grin to lighten the mood. “I'm worried,” his mother said quietly. “I hope he's okay.”

Akiteru, as had been already stated, was worried too. But he was worried for very different reasons than his brother, or anyone else, could have expected.

……

Yamaguchi woke to the feeling of someone kicking him hard in the side.

“...up, up, _up,_ up, up, up...”

With every repetition of this one-word mantra, another blow would land against his ribs and send a jolt of agony pulsing through his chest. Curling in on himself, Yamaguchi let out a long, pained groan. Anyone who knew the first thing about Kyuuketsuki knew that, when sleeping, it was generally a _very_ bad idea to wake them up. Anyone who knew the first thing about Yamaguchi knew that, when roused from sleep rudely, he tended not to be very happy with the universe at large. Actually, he tended to bite, which was the main reason that most people were smart enough to leave him alone and just let him sleep.

He wished he could say that his first reflex hadn't been to automatically go for the foot that was assaulting him with his fangs bared. It wasn't something he was proud of -- in fact, groggy and disoriented as he was, he hardly even recognized that it was in fact a human foot terrorizing him. That is, until the foot promptly slammed into his jaw and sent him careening backwards on the ground.

Stunned, Yamaguchi blinked up into the sudden harsh light illuminating the cramped and dark space he’d previously been very comfortably sleeping in. Silhouetted against the daylight, the figure standing over him looked broad-shouldered and imposing. It took Yamaguchi a moment, but the second he recognized him his eyes widened.

Why had _Tsukki’s brother_ just kicked him in the face?

Akiteru had to have been able to sense the young Kyuuketsuki’s thoughts; instead of apologizing, however, he simply tilted his head down at the boy and offered him a benign smile. Somehow, this harmless gesture sent a cold chill up Yamaguchi’s spine.

“You’ve been very naughty, you know. Sneaking into my baby brother’s room like that, in the middle of the night. How many times have you done that?”

Yamaguchi blinked, sucking hard on his cheeks -- a nervous habit that he promptly reminded himself to stop, because Hinata said it made him look like a fish. If Akiteru had found out about the late-night visits, of course he wasn’t happy. “I've done it… a lot,” he admitted finally, rebelling against his own nerves and forcing himself to meet the young man’s eye. “Over the past month. We've become really good friends!”

Akiteru let out a soft humming noise; for some reason, Yamaguchi found that he liked this even less than the smile (which had promptly disappeared at the use of the word _“friend”_ ). If possible, the young Kyuuketsuki seemed to shrink into himself even more. He had thought that Tsukki’s brother had seemed very nice, in spite of the obvious unsettling fact that he was claimed by another. Even from his first meeting, Yamaguchi could tell that Akiteru had been marked at some point by another Kyuuketsuki. It was a scent that all Kyuuketsuki were able to pick up; being marked meant that a human had been bitten and was not yet dead. It was a Kyuuketsuki’s way of telling others that this person was his prey, his, and he was willing to fight over them.

When Yamaguchi had met Akiteru, he had been able to discern several things almost instantly just by the scent the human unconsciously carried with him. Akiteru had, at some point, likely within the past few years, been bitten by a very powerful Kyuuketsuki. He had been bitten more than once. He had survived. By that time, the scent of the mark had faded, which told Yamaguchi that Akiteru had not had direct contact with this Kyuuketsuki for some time.

But now, he realized with a startling sort of clarity exactly why he was feeling so intimidated by Tsukishima’s nice older brother. The scent of the mark was no longer fading and old; now it was new. It was sharp, fresh, and poignant.

Automatically, Yamaguchi’s eyes began to search the man’s neck. Over his artery, the most obvious spots for a bite, he found nothing. But if Akiteru really hadn't been bit--

Wait. His eyes caught on a spot just behind the older man’s ear. Even in the shadows, well-hidden where it wouldn't be easily seen, Yamaguchi could recognize the harsh red and purple marks against pale skin.

That could only mean one thing, and suddenly Yamaguchi felt very, very afraid.

Akiteru took another step into the room; still sprawled out on the floor, Yamaguchi stared up with wide eyes as the man towered over him. “Here’s the thing about you and Kei-chan being _‘friends’_ , Yamaguchi,” Akiteru said, enunciating each word purposefully in an almost whimsical sing-song tone. “He is human. You are not. He is alive. You are not. He is young and naive, and really doesn’t know just what a dangerous game he is playing -- and maybe you are, too. But really, Yamaguchi, you should know the way this world works by now.”

Yamaguchi tried to speak; his tongue felt heavy in his mouth, almost as if it had been turned to lead. He swallowed thickly, wide-eyed, as Akiteru deigned to crouch down next to him.

Akiteru’s eyes had been a warm shade of golden brown, so similar to Tsukishima’s own; but now, Yamaguchi realized with a jolt of fear, that gentle color was gone. Akiteru’s pupils were blown; his eyes were nearly completely black. And he _stared_ at him, stared with a burning sort of intensity that Yamaguchi had never felt from another human being. This was the sort of intensity that belonged on battle-fields, facing down enemies, watching cities burn before you. Nothing like that belonged in a village boy’s eyes; and when Yamaguchi dared to look up, he felt himself being pulled in.

“Kyuuketsuki do not _befriend_ humans. They _eat_ them.” Akiteru’s gaze was so fierce that Yamaguchi couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t frightened anymore; he turned his head, squeezing his eyes closed as he desperately tried to escape from the darkness which seemed so intent on swallowing him up.

Akiteru’s fingers on his face _burned_ , searing his flesh; he was unable to resist as his own chin was lifted once more, forcing him to meet the eyes head on. Immediately, he felt his thoughts begin to dull, biting fear turning into nothing but a half-hearted pressure in the back of his head. He couldn't look away, couldn't steer from the eyes that were seeing inside his head -- every thought, every emotion, every memory.

“You are going to stay away from my little brother, Yamaguchi,” Akiteru drawled -- casually, as if remarking on nothing more than some particularly nice weather. Yamaguchi struggled to focus on anything other than his words. “He does not belong to _you_. If you know anything about what’s best for you and for your clan -- if you want to _protect_ them -- you’ll end this.”

The fingers still hadn’t strayed from his face; now Yamaguchi could feel fingernails digging into his jaw, pressing deep into his flesh and causing him to squirm. Akiteru’s grip was like iron, his gaze still keeping the other boy tethered to him without any hope of escape; Yamaguchi’s throat was constricted, his voice long-since having abandoned him, and all he could do was let out an almost inaudible whimper.

Akiteru tilted his head; a deceptively pleasant half-smile played upon his lips. “Is that clear enough for you?”

Yamaguchi nodded.

At once, the hands on his face were gone; the burning feeling of the touch lingered, his jaw ached from where nails had cut into his skin, but the most important thing was that the endless blackness had disappeared. Akiteru’s eyes were closed; Yamaguchi could breathe again. Slowly but surely, rational thought flowed back to him like a pulsing current, and he could feel himself remembering where he was and what he was doing once more.

_What had just happened?_

Yamaguchi jerked up from where his head had come to rest in his hands, eyes wide and frantic; but Akiteru was gone. He had vanished, slipped away completely in a matter of seconds, leaving nothing but a cold and horrified feeling churning in Yamaguchi’s stomach, and the memory of bruised skin and black, black eyes.

……

Yamaguchi was restless.

How he could be so high-strung after presumably sleeping all day was beyond Tsukishima. Observing with a lazy sort of interest, he watched Yamaguchi flutter from the bed to the chair to the floor, all within a matter of five minutes; the Kyuuketsuki was making it painfully obvious that something wasn’t right. What annoyed Tsukishima more was not the fact that Yamaguchi seemed to have forgotten how to sit still for more than a few seconds it was the fact that he was keeping stubbornly silent about just what it was that was bothering him.

It was almost as if he thought something would happen if he stayed in one place for too long, something _bad_ \-- something that would justify the uneasy crease in his brow, the way his hands absently knit together, the fingernails absently gnawed upon. He hovered by the window; he tried to rest on the floor for a minute before giving up; and from his own spot in bed Tsukishima watched on with something akin to morbid fascination.

Yamaguchi wouldn't tell him what's wrong. That was the frustrating thing. Admittedly, they hadn't known each other for long; but Yamaguchi had never given off the impression of being a person particularly skilled at hiding his thoughts. Tonight, however, Tsukishima found Yamaguchi irritatingly unwilling to budge.

“You stick around all day, and now that it's nighttime you won't sit still.” He could feel his own nose scrunching up slightly, in that way it tended to do when he was annoyed. On a normal night, Yamaguchi would smirk at the gesture, mutter something about how “cute” he was. Tonight, however, the only response Tsukishima got was a blank stare from dark eyes.

“I guess I just have some… energy to spare.” The excuse was weak, even for Yamaguchi; he wouldn't quite meet his friend’s eyes as he said it. Tsukishima’s teeth ground against each other, and in the back of his mind he could hear Akiteru’s obnoxiously cheery voice chiding him for the habit in the way he always did when they were children.

 _Everything_ was obnoxious tonight. Maybe it wasn't even Yamaguchi, maybe he was the one on edge. Maybe he just really needed to get some sleep.

But sleep wasn't going to happen with the Kyuuketsuki still there. After working all day and enjoying dinner with his family, he had (reasonably) expected that Yamaguchi would have by that time made himself scarce. His displeasure at walking into his bedroom and seeing the other boy still there -- waiting for him -- had been palpable. Yamaguchi could sense it, too, so the reason he hadn't just left for the night was beyond him.

But he hadn’t. He had stuck around, and now he was pacing around Tsukishima’s bedroom like a live wire and refusing to say what was on his mind.

Yamaguchi’s fingers drummed against the windowsill; a dull, steady rhythm echoing through the otherwise quiet room. No, it definitely _wasn't_ just Tsukishima’s own nerves tonight -- the other boy was acting far jumper than usual. Something was bothering him.

 _Nothing_ was more irritating than people who refused to get to the point. (Well, maybe that was untrue. Tsukishima could think of a great many things that were perhaps more irritating than Yamaguchi was being at the moment: repetitive noises, loud noises, unnecessary touching, useless questions, people who picked on the weak, people who were weak and never tried to better themselves, tomatoes, salty things, large birds, cats with white paws, bedhead, idiots… Tsukishima was annoyed by many, many things. The point was, Yamaguchi was certainly being annoying.)

And frankly, he didn't want to deal with this right now. He was tired. He had worked hard all day, and now all he really wanted was to get a good night’s sleep. Yamaguchi's hovering presence at his bedroom window was _not helping_.

“You've been staring out the window for five minutes. Are you looking for something?”

“No.”

The answer came too fast; too short. Tsukishima narrowed his eyes.

If Yamaguchi wouldn't talk, he would _make_ him talk. He did not have the patience for irritating people tonight.

“Yamaguchi.”

The brunette glanced away from the window once more; but the spot Tsukishima had been occupying was now empty. Startled, he made to turn around, but he wasn’t quick enough; one hand on either side of his shoulders, Tsukishima pressed up against him from behind. The windowpane was cool under his palms, the sensation distracting him from the shock of sudden closeness; Yamaguchi didn’t have that luxury. He was frozen stiff, wide-eyed as Tsukishima rested his chin on his shoulder and peered out the window just as the other boy had been doing seconds ago.

“There’s nothing out there,” he muttered, and his voice was so close to Yamaguchi’s ear that he could feel hot breath on his neck. Involuntarily, the boy shivered; it was all Tsukishima could do not to mirror the gesture. He wasn’t one for physical contact as a rule, but the objective had been to shock Yamaguchi. He’d certainly succeeded.

Yamaguchi was almost pressed up against the window, Tsukishima at his back preventing him from moving. Out of the corner of his gaze, Tsukishima could see the boy’s wide eyes trained on the treeline, as if it could offer him salvation from what was right behind him. He looked so taken aback that it was actually funny, and Tsukishima chuckled low in his ear.

“What’s the matter? You had no problem being this close to me this morning.”

“T- Tsukki…” Yamaguchi’s eyelids fluttered; the pale moonlight illuminated the harshness of a blush on pale cheeks.

Tsukishima inhaled a deep breath against Yamaguchi’s back; the other boy remained completely still, yet another reminder of the ways in which they were different. Where Yamaguchi’s heart probably would have been fit to bursting out of his chest, there was nothing more than stillness; Tsukishima’s heart seemed to be working overtime for both of them.

“What’s going on, Yamaguchi? Tell me.”

Yamaguchi drew in a shuddering breath (he did that out of habit, Tsukishima had learned, instead of necessity; just one of those little idiosyncrasies Yamaguchi had in spades). His head tilted slightly to the side, and a piece of his hair brushed against Tsukishima’s cheek. The blond kept his eyes trained intensely on his friend’s face, scrutinizing him for any indication of what might be bothering him. Yamaguchi’s mouth opened once, closed, and then he seemed to think better of it once more. When he spoke, he voice was quiet.

“You know I just want to protect you. You're the first friend I've had… the first human -- the first _person_ I've really felt close to in a really long time, and I don't…” The boy pressed his lips tightly shut for a second before regaining himself. “If anything happened to you, I don't know what I'd do.”

Tsukishima was still, pensive; he did not move as Yamaguchi shifted in his arms, carefully turning himself to face him. At once the other boy’s chest was pressed up against his, wide eyes looking up directly into his own. With the pale moonlight shining on him, the other boy’s skin looked almost translucent; the freckles dancing across his skin were no longer so jarring, but now formed an irregular pattern of what almost looked like constellations over his face. Yamaguchi had to be able to feel the way his heart was pounding; Tsukishima swallowed, his throat bobbing with the movement, and he realized that their faces were close. Too close. 

A word, a breath from barely parted lips. “Tsukki…”

“What's going on, Yamaguchi?” Tsukishima asked, his voice low. The other boy squeezed his eyes shut again.

“I… I think…” It was as if he couldn’t quite get the words out. Unconsciously or not, somehow Yamaguchi’s hand found Tsukishima’s own, and the other boy squeezed tight. Somehow, Yamaguchi found his footing again, with a slight gasp of breath. “You might be in danger. Your brother…”

“My brother?” Tsukishima’s eyes were wide now, baffled both at what was happening in the moment and the mention of his brother.

“Akiteru,” Yamaguchi insisted, and somehow as Tsukishima registered the earnest, fearful look in the other boy’s eyes he realized that he knew.

“I told you he was marked before. But it’s stronger this time, and I saw a bruise behind his ear that I think was a bite… he woke me up, today, and he wasn’t himself, or at least -- at least I don’t think he was. His eyes were so dark, and when he spoke it was like…” Yamaguchi cut himself off, shuddering. “It was like he wasn’t human at all. It was like he was one of us. He _scared_ me, Tsukishima. He really, really did.”

Admittedly, it was not difficult to scare Yamaguchi. But Tsukishima’s mind was caught now in other memories: his brother, face pale, slipping into the house in the early morning; his brother, delirious in the throes of fever; his brother, stumbling out of the woods covered in blood.

“What did Akiteru say?”

“He said… it wasn’t okay for us to be friends, because it wasn’t ‘natural’. He made me promise to stay away from you. he said you didn’t belong to me, but he said it like… like you belong to someone else instead.”

“I’ve seen him.” Tsukishima was surprised to find himself slightly breathless when he spoke. “He sneaks out of the house at night, sometimes. He goes into the woods. I don’t think he sleeps at night anymore.”

“Tsukki…” Yamaguchi’s eyes were wide, frightened -- terrified, more than Tsukishima had ever seen him. It was a jarring reality, that whatever was happening to his brother could make Yamaguchi look so damn scared. It didn’t help that Tsukishima could feel the claws of fear singing deep into his own body, clawing inside his chest and trying to fight it’s way up his throat. He inhaled a breath, deep and shuddering, before refocusing on the Kyuuketsuki again.

If his brother was in danger, he was not going to sit idly by. Not matter how their relationship may have changed after Akiteru had been attacked, they were still brothers.

“Yamaguchi, if he is --”

His words cut off, dying in his throat like a flame suddenly deprived of oxygen. Yamaguchi blinked in surprise before realization dawned that Tsukishima’s eyes were not focused on him at all; they were staring out the window behind him.

“What’s…” Very slowly, Yamaguchi pulled away from Tsukishima to look behind him; his eyes widened when he caught sight of the figure moving through the tall grass, lantern light flickering as he made his way towards the treeline. He was headed into the forest.

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima said after a moment, his voice hard. The Kyuuketsuki’s gaze flickered up to him once more, and he blinked at the intensity upon the other boy’s face. He had never seen Tsukishima look so passionate before; it was startling.

“Let’s go,” the blond ordered, and Yamaguchi didn’t waste a second before nodding.

……

Looking back, he supposed that dying had been the hard part.

There had just been so much he’d liked about being alive. New foods, body heat, _his own reflection_ \-- the second he’d died, all of those things had slipped away. The sunlight -- that was one thing he _definitely_ missed, the feeling of warmth on his bare arms, skin tanning slightly under the bright rays. The sun had always spoken to him of new possibilities. New chances, brought with every single morning.

He didn’t see mornings anymore.

The act of dying itself hadn’t been particularly pleasant either; though he could say with gladness that the gods of mercy had been fair to him. He didn’t remember much of it -- there had been pain, he supposed, a burning feeling like fire in his throat and in his veins, there was the sensation of ever-encroaching blackness…

And that had been that. Blackness. Until that was gone too.

Dying wasn’t a thing he much liked to think about. But being dead -- well, that was much more fun.

His kisses pressed deep into the girl’s neck. Instinctively, her back arched under him; and he took a moment to admire the lithe body pressed against him, smooth skin beneath his hands, long hair tangled between his fingers. A hint of tongue teased just behind her ear, and the innkeeper's daughter lets out a muffled moan. He had to fight back the urge to grin, and it was easy enough; no one could call him an amateur at this.

He had been handsome before he died; death had just given him an effortless air of mystery, a slight hint of danger any human could instinctively pick up on. If there was one thing he knew about humans, it was that they were very attracted to dangerous things.

“You’re beautiful,” he crooned, one hand sliding up the girl’s thigh; pressed against the wall, there was little room for her to move, but somehow she still managed to plant a kiss against his bared collarbone. A chuckle reverberated through his chest; the girl’s gaze turned up to him, and he was unsurprised to be met with wide, dilated eyes and a flushed face.

“I -- I --”

Her attempts to speak were cut off by his lips against hers again; she practically melted into his mouth, any lingering attempts at resistance fading into nothing instantly. _It’s becoming too easy,_ he thought to himself; even after a century, humans hadn't changed a bit. Still all too lured in by a pretty face and a hint of peril that they can’t quite put their finger on.

“Your father will be missing you, you know,” he hummed into her neck, accentuated by a light dusting of kisses. She may have even been too far gone to hear him at this point; there was no reply. She could not see his smirk take on a predatory air; maybe not even feel his hands adjust on her shoulders, gripping that much tighter.

The wonderful thing about being able to captivate people, he often thought, was the way no one ever said “no” to you.

Maybe she hadn't been able to sense just what felt so dangerous about him before. But the moment his fangs sunk into her neck, she knew.

There was always that flash of resistance -- that split-second instinct to fight for your life that no charm could completely overcome. But, inevitably, the spark of life flickered out. The muscles relaxed, the body melted into his grip, and the poor soul gives up.

At first, it had baffled him. Over the years, over the course of many, many years, he had been able to come us with a sensible conclusion.

Humans simply wanted to die.

Minutes or hours later, gorged well to the point of satisfaction, a trickle of blood still running thin past immaculately pink lips, he leaned back against the wall and smiled.

“How ironic,” he mutters to the shell that had once been a teenage girl. “You humans spend so long hiding from monsters in the dark -- and yet the second one flashes you a nice smile, you run right into their arms.”

Humans were funny, funny creatures indeed. He counted himself lucky that they never seemed to change.

Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, glancing around the alleyway and wondering just how long it would take for Watari to get back from whatever business he'd had in this town. He had an appointment he simply couldn't miss; his clan’s resident teleporter knew that perfectly well. He would hate to miss out on darling Akiteru; and even if he was quite full, he always had room for just a bit more sweet blood...

Humans never changed. But that didn't mean he couldn't.

…...

In case it hadn’t been made clear enough by that point -- Tsukishima freaking _hated_ anything and everything to do with the woods.

It wasn’t even due to what was apparently becoming his habit of getting lost there at night (though, as Yamaguchi quite adamantly insisted, they “really really were not lost” -- if anyone, it was Akiteru who had gotten lost, and they were just taking their sweet time finding him again). The woods had an oppressively eerie feeling to them; perhaps it shouldn’t have gotten to him as much as it did, considering Tsukishima would never count himself as a person who was easily perturbed, but the woods didn’t feel _right_. With every step, every moment spent among the trees, the sensation that there were eyes staring at you from the darkness only grew stronger. It was impossible to escape from; and even in what seemed like a baffling maze of forest, there was nowhere to hide. The sensation of being watched -- stalked -- was suffocating.

All he really wanted to do was find Akiteru and drag him back home -- physically, if they had to. But his brother seemed to have made himself invisible; wherever he had slipped off to, the two boys following him seemed to be at a loss.

Maybe it was nerves which led Tsukishima to be a bit more distracted than usual that night; otherwise, he never would have strayed from Yamaguchi’s side. His night vision was practically non-existent; so the moment he realized he had somehow managed to lost the Kyuuketsuki in the dense woods was the moment he realized that he was in trouble.

“Hey there.”

The voice that suddenly seemed to materialize right out of the shadows automatically had him freezing, his spine stiffening and eyes rapidly darting around for any trace of movement. Later, he would deny being frightened. The low chuckle that seemed to reverberate in the darkness around him, however, let him know that his nerves had not been missed.

He couldn't see them, but the knowledge that the person could see _him_ somehow annoyed him; so he leveled a glare into the darkness, firm and unyielding despite the hummingbird rhythm of his heart pounding against his ribs. Slowly, two figures emerged from out of the darkness before him.

Dressed in a mixture of red and black and cloaked in shadows, the duo would have been the very image of classic _“demons of the night”_ \-- had the shorter of the two perhaps looked a little more interested in the events before them, and a little less like they were longing to be literally anywhere else other than in the middle of a confrontation. As it was, they didn't make a very impressive sight; a markedly unimpressed stare that didn't quite meet anyone’s gaze, hunched posture, and bleached hair growing dark at the roots. Tsukishima pursed his lips at the sight of them; but what the blond lacked in menace was more than made up for in their companion. This man carried himself with a cocky, dangerous air of confidence, but the first thing Tsukishima noticed about him wasn't the predatory smirk on his lips; it was the horrific case of bedhead he was sporting. Someone had clearly climbed out on the wrong side of the coffin.

He met the bed headed man’s gaze head-on, and raised an eyebrow. The Kyuuketsuki’s Cheshire grin only widened.

“Fancy finding you out here, little human. You’re not all alone, are you?” He tilted his head, taking a step closer; Tsukishima had to fight the instinctive urge to step back. “Because that would be… very bad luck for you.”

He didn't want these two any closer to him than necessary; that said, he also really didn't want Yamaguchi to get into a fight he probably wouldn't be able to win. Mostly, he wanted this creep to quit eyeing him as if he'd just found dinner. Tsukishima pursed his lips into a thin, unimpressed line, seeming to size up the other man (he was taller than him, _hah_ ) before replying.

“I’m not alone. And I’m not your next meal.”

He made a move to turn away; the sudden appearance of a brick wall springing up right in front of him had him toppling backwards at once. Tsukishima landed hard on his hands, scrambling backward at the very real sight of brick and mortar that had certainly _not_ been behind him a second ago, and he could hear the creepy man chuckle.

“Whoa! Going so soon?” The tone of Bedhead’s voice very clearly implied that he wasn't about to let Tsukishima go anywhere. “And we were only just getting acquainted. Why don't you tell us your name, little human? And why you're all the way out here at night, while you're at it -- don't you know these woods are dangerous?”

Tsukishima studied him with narrowed eyes, definitely disliking this guy's casual attitude. Past that affable grin, he could see the serpent slithering underneath; something in him was screaming that this was by no means a man to be trusted. Of course, the fact that he was still eyeing him up like the last morsel of food at a buffet didn't help.

“I'm not alone. Unless you're looking for a confrontation, I suggest the two of you make yourselves scarce.”

“Would love too.” The man tilted his head; messy dark hair fell even further into his eyes. Tsukishima could lot help wondering just how well the guy could see. “Then again, this isn't our territory to being with, is it, Kenma?” He glanced at the blond by his side; his only response was a noncommittal hum. Unfazed, Bedhead took several steps closer to Tsukishima, who by this point had picked himself up off the ground and was eyeing his down the end of his nose disdainfully.

“Hmm… you do have a nice complexion, Glasses, you know that? But you aren’t wrong about not being dinner -- you reek of Karasuno.”

Brief bafflement registered in Kei’s mind at the words, before he remembered what Yamaguchi had been saying about vampires “marking” their prey. He quirked his lips up in a dry half-smile, tilting his head at the other man. “And you reek of rats and lack of hair care. Good evening.”

He stepped backwards, relieved to find that the brick wall had seeming vanished (had it only been an illusion after all?) and the dark haired Kyuuketsuki made no move to stop him this time. To everyone’s surprise, it was the short blond who now spoke up, their eyes fixed on Tsukishima in a way that made him feel unsettlingly laid bare.

“Who else is here with you?”

Their voice was so low that Tsukishima had to strain to make out the words; his mouth remained stubbornly shut, however. He was unwilling to give up Yamaguchi if he could help it.

Bedhead was obviously not impressed. He waited a beat, gauging whether or not Tsukishima would talk; when it became obvious that no answer was forthcoming, his grin reappeared and his hands settled on his hips in a confident pose.

“Oi!” he called out suddenly, tossing his head back; his shout echoed through the quiet forest. “Anybody else out here? If not, I’ve just found myself a midnight snack!”

A number of alarmed thoughts were blasting through Tsukishima’s brain in the single instant following the man’s call. There was no way that anyone else in the woods hadn’t heard that; Yamaguchi was undoubtedly about to come running, but more importantly this idiot had just given their location away to Akiteru. Tsukishima suddenly felt the very powerful impulse to deck the idiot right across the face, brick walls and crooked smirks be damned.

Predictably, it was a matter of seconds before Yamaguchi came bursting out from between a clump of trees; his eyes widened as he took in the confrontation in front of him. “N- no! You c-can’t eat him! He’s not food!”

Tsukishima winced; he couldn’t even tell if Yamaguchi was trying to look menacing or not. If he was, it really, really wasn’t working. To his surprise, though, the man’s posture almost automatically relaxed into something a bit more --- friendly? Maybe he wouldn’t go that far, but the predatory air about him promptly faded away, and his shoulders relaxed. “Oh. Hey, Yamaguchi. So you’re out and about now, huh?”

“With a human,” added the quiet blond from behind them both. Yamaguchi’s eyes caught on them, and he seemed to relax as well, giving the blond a faint smile.

“This is Tsukishima,” he introduced, closing the distance between himself and the human without hesitation. He still seemed nervous, but more confident now as well; this was nothing short of a relief. “He’s my friend.”

“Ah.” The dark haired man bowed his head theatrically, as if paying deference to a king -- or humoring a rather energetic child. “Apologies, then. You should have said something, Tsukishima. A friend of Yamaguchi is a friend of ours.”

Tsukishima had half the mind to point out that the man had known he had ties to Karasuno; but introductions didn’t leave time for petty details. “I’m Kuroo,” introduced the bedhead man, grinning at Tsukishima once more before gesturing behind him. “This is Kenma.”

Kenma stared at the ground. “... hi.”

“Not much of a pleasure, is it?” Tsukishima did not have _half_ the patience required to deal with someone like Kuroo tonight; he still needed to find Akiteru. “We’ll be going now.”

“Hang on.”

Tsukishima wasn’t about to bother; but Yamaguchi wasn’t budging, and when he looked over his shoulder he found Kuroo addressing the younger Kyuuketsuki directly now. “Yamaguchi, we’re here to talk to Karasuno.”

“Talk to us?” echoed Yamaguchi blankly.

“It’s… kind of important. Mind inviting us in?”

Kuroo punctuated his question with another smirk, and Yamaguchi shifted uncomfortably before glancing over his shoulder. His eyes seemed to radiate apologies; Tsukishima felt the sudden, violent urge to scream.

This was not going to be a fun night. He could already tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest damn chapter I've written for this. And yes, the plot is finally kicking into high gear, as are the ships -- this story is not going to go into NSFW territory, but the Tsukkiyama is going to intensify in the next few chapters. Also, if you thought Akiteru seemed a bit out of character during that confrontation scene -- yeah, well, he was.
> 
> I love Kuroo Tetsurou too much, guys. And Oikawa too, for that matter. I had way too much fun writing that vampire scene.
> 
> Coming up next: what urgent news do the Nekoma boys bring to Karasuno? How will Tsukki react to being back at Karasuno? What the hell is Akiteru even doing?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR WARNINGS HERE: the end of this chapter doesn't necessarily got into non-con, but there's a lot of SUUUPER dub-con elements, including, to put it bluntly, mind control. These elements have always been present in the story, but leading forward they're going to get just a bit more prominent. 
> 
> Don't worry, guys! Suga's always going to save the day!

Tsukishima’s first impression of the Karasuno clan -- once he had recovered from nearly being eaten by them, of course -- was that they were, as a whole, _lively_. In general, lively people annoyed him. He didn’t like excitement. He didn’t like loud things. He really didn’t like people who behaved like idiots for no reason. Yamaguchi was the exception to the rule; he didn’t need a reason to be cheerful, but he was just so dogged about it and non-offensive that it really didn’t bother Tsukishima as much as it should have.

That still didn’t mean he was happy to be back at Karasuno.

It wasn’t even the fact that they were too energetic here. He could handle that easily, if he had to. Perhaps, just maybe -- even loathe as he was to admit it to himself -- he still wasn’t totally past the whole “biting” incident. Sure, it had been over a month ago by now; he knew it hadn’t been on purpose; he even knew that the entire clan had fed recently, because Yamaguchi had told him so. That didn’t mean he was able to just forget about it. The scar remained on his neck, the memories lingered in the back of his head, and overall it was still very much a nuisance to him whenever he was unfortunate enough to find himself thinking about it.

Returning to Karasuno wasn’t something he thought he would ever do. He didn’t _want_ to be there; it was cold, it was the middle of the night, and he was tired.

For some reason, he was standing before that towering fortress in the woods once again anyway. Life really did have a funny way of playing with him, sometimes.

The first time he had stood there, taking in the sight of the imposing walls and turrets with wide-eyed awe, he had been alone. Now, however, Yamaguchi hovered by his side; his presence was very familiar, and in a strange way almost comforting. No longer did he feel ready to sprint away, as if he would be ambushed the second he turned his head; with Yamaguchi by his side, it was marginally easier to trust that he was safe.

They were greeted outside by Daichi, as well as a little ball of orange bounciness that Tsukishima recognized as Hinata. They must have been doing something before their arrival; but as the four newcomers stepped out of the trees, both pairs of dark eyes were already trained on them. Tsukishima fought the urge to shift uncomfortably under the scrutinizing stares.

If the leader of the Karasuno clan was surprised to see the two outsider Kyuuketsuki, he was careful not to show it. Hinata, meanwhile, was focused on the quiet Kyuuketsuki lingering some paces back; the smile on his face was almost bright enough to make Tsukishima squint.

Kuroo stepped forward grinning, a sly, half-predatory baring of teeth. “Sawamura.”

“Kuroo.” Daichi nodded in return, eyes flickering between the two visitors and then to Yamaguchi. “A bit far from home, aren't you?”

“Well... this isn't exactly a social call.” Kuroo took a step forward, his blond shadow following. Any trace of a smile faded; his handsome face had now taken on a rather grim expression, at odds with the air of casualty he was still being careful to project. “We need to talk, Sawamura -- and yes, it's important.”

“You wouldn't have come all the way from the city if it wasn't.” Daichi shrugged broad shoulders, his eyes scanning the man before him for a second as if trying to solve a puzzle just by staring at it. Then, with an open gesture of his hand towards the front door: “Come in.”

It was Hinata who rushed forwards, then, seizing Kenma by the arm and half-dragging them forward into the mansion. The blond obliged without a whimper, allowing themself to be dragged inside behind Daichi and Kuroo while Hinata began to chatter.

“Hey, Kenma, this means you can see my room again! I still have to share with Kageyama, which is awful because he snores all night long, but I put up these really cool pictures I found in a magazine, and my bed is super bouncy so if you want to jump on it I can show you how to do backflips -- oh, but be careful not to hit your head on the wall, because that hurts a lot. And you also might dent the wall, but that was an accident no matter _what_ stupid Kageyama says…”

Tsukishima let out a soft exhale as the others walked ahead of him; his eyes flickered up, past the towering building and towards the sky. How he wished he could be home right now, instead of here. There was an uneasy churn in his gut when he thought of going back inside that castle again, and every instinct in his body seemed to be rebelling against him taking another step.

“You’re nervous.”

The voice was quiet, certain; glancing at the figure next to him, he was met with Yamaguchi’s wide, perceptive gaze. Tsukishima let out a quiet scoff.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You don’t need to be. No one is going to hurt you here. They’re my family, Tsukki.”

Yamaguchi’s arm was hovering next to his; he felt their hands brush, once, and was almost ready to write it off as an accident when ever so tentatively he felt fingers twine between his and Yamaguchi’s palm tighten against his own. His eyes flickered down in surprise, before returning to stare up at Yamaguchi once more. He blinked back at him, and somehow the absolute serene confidence in his face was even more soothing than any words Sugawara might have said in the same situation.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he breathed into the darkness surrounding them, gaze meeting Tsukishima’s boldly for just a moment before returning self-consciously down to the ground again. He drew in a breath he didn’t need, chest heaving with the action; and when he looked up again, he was staring fixedly at the doorway.

He started forwards and Tsukishima followed. Somehow, their hands stayed joined the entire time, and Tsukishima felt no inclination to pull away.

......

“About a week ago, Aoba Johsai abandoned their territory.”

There was silence amongst the room’s inhabitants for a long moment. Kuroo’s gaze was steady; Daichi’s back straightened as he drew back a bit, and Sugawara’s knuckles turned white against his clasped hands. A few stray whispers barely broke the silence, hushed and trepidatious. Slightly confused, Tsukishima’s gaze flickered to Yamaguchi, but he seemed to be registering the same surprise as the other two members of his clan.

Tsukishima had no clue who Aoba Johsai were, but it was clear from the reactions of the Kyuuketsuki that they were very, very bad news.

Sugawara cleared his throat, the simple action breaking the tense spell which had fallen over the room. “You're sure?”

Kuroo nodded, expression grim. “Very. Inuoka’s been tracking them ever since; so far they've skirted just around Johzenji’s territory, and cut straight through Datekou. Datekou didn't take that well, shockingly -- I'm not sure Seijoh they managed to kill anyone, but there sure we're a lot of heads flying around.”

Immediately the room was abuzz with hushed, anxious chatter. “Oh man,” someone groaned loudly; Yamaguchi made a soft, anxious noise in the back of his throat. Tsukishima, for his part, was just confused. Could Kyuuketsuki be killed by other Kyuuketsuki? And if decapitation wasn't enough to do it, then what _could_ kill them?

Directly to his right, Hinata was bouncing on his knees; he wore a troubled frown, the expression not suiting his light features. “Do you think Aone’s okay?” he spoke up, worrying his bottom lip.

“Who cares?”

Sugawara sighed, shooting Tanaka a warning look. “Hinata, Aone’s built like a tree, I'm sure he's just fine,” he reassured the younger boy, and Hinata relaxed slightly. Sugawara’s act was good; only the slight knot of tenseness between his brows gave away the anxiety he had to be feeling. Even Tsukishima felt a bit impressed at the man’s composure as he turned his attention to Kuroo once more. “And where are they now?”

“At the moment, they're moving out of Datekou’s territory; from the looks of it, they're making a beeline right to you.”

This revelation brought up a new round of alarmed whispers; the air of tension around the room was becoming palpable.

 _“Us?”_ It was Nishinoya, the speed demon, who spoke up. His dark brow was furrowed angrily; he was fidgeting in spot, as if incapable of holding still for more than a second at a time. “Why the hell are they attacking us, we haven't done anything!”

“We don't know that they want to attack us,” Sugawara tried to placate, but his words were a pale form of comfort. No one believed it -- least of all himself.

Nishinoya scoffed. “They attacked Datekou, and they were just passing through. If they're heading towards us, who knows what they'll do!”

It was clear that his words were making other members of the group uncomfortable, even if he was vocalizing what everyone else was thinking. Asahi seemed to be trying to make himself smaller; the nervous blonde, Yachi, was practically quaking as she clung to the arm of a bespectacled girl whose name Tsukishima realized he didn't even know.

“What could they want?” Her voice was a high-pitched whisper, and she only seemed more nervous when eyes turned to her at the sound. “We've never even fought Seijoh. We haven't fought anyone in years! Since Ukai vanished, Karasuno hasn't been a threat to anyone!”

“Who's Ukai?”

He shouldn't have spoken up; but Tsukishima had been following the conversation raptly this entire time, struggling to understand even what seemed to be far above his level of knowledge on Kyuuketsuki. He didn't actually know much about the Karasuno clan, he realized now -- he didn't know much about any of them, besides Yamaguchi.

Daichi’s head snapped towards him, along with those of most of the rest of the rooms occupants. It seemed that his presence had been all but forgotten. The Nekoma leader, Kuroo, stared hard at him with an odd expression on his face that somehow annoyed Tsukishima.

“... you let the human stay, huh?” His voice was wry. Said human felt a pinch of irritation deep in his chest.

“I have no problem with leaving,” he replied coolly, moving to rise to his feet. Daichi held out a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“No. No one’s going anywhere right now,” he ordered firmly. Despite not owning him any allegiance, Tsukishima found himself reluctantly sinking back down in his seat anyway, eyeing the older man rapidly when Daichi turned to him.

“Ukai Ikkei was the former leader of the Karasuno clan -- and it was under his hand that our clan was at one point the strongest in the Miyagi prefecture. Ukai was militant, very set in the ways of classical vampires; but for a time, his methods certainly worked. Back then, Karasuno was a clan to be feared.”

Sugawara leaned forward, picking up the story automatically where the other trailed off. “But then Ukai disappeared. No one knows where he went, or what happened to him; but once he vanished, the old Karasuno clan fell apart. Its members were either killed or went their separate ways -- there are some rumours, of course, but not many people know what really happened to them all. The Karasuno today is far different from the one of a century ago. We carry their name, we live in their sanctuary, but we hold none of the power that once was theirs.”

“That's why they call us ‘Flightless Crows’,” Daichi added, wincing slightly at the nickname. “Karasuno’s become somewhat of a joke now.”

Tsukishima nodded slowly, settling back against the couch once more; his brow furrowed in thought, he barely noticed Yamaguchi studying him out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t bother returning the other boy’s gaze; Kuroo was still staring at him too, and Tsukishima had half a mind to glare until the annoying man cut it out. He didn’t bother -- he didn’t want to see that dumb smirk on Kuroo’s face again.

“So then why would Seijoh be attacking us?” the dark haired one, Kageyama, spoke up for the first time. His words seemed to startle everyone. “For our territory?”

“Seijoh isn't a roaming clan, like Kitagawa Daiichi,” Kuroo replied, and the the mention of this name it didn't escape Tsukishima’s notice the way the small redhead beside him seemed to tense up. His gaze flickered to Hinata; the small Kyuuketsuki’s eyes were wide, set in a hard face. “They're not just sweeping through villages for the fun of it, they're coming here because they want something. Maybe they want the mansion; maybe it's something else.”

“Our territory is weak, compared to what Seijoh had before,” Sugawara said. “They can’t want our territory. What is Oikawa even thinking?”

“Is he thinking at all?” Nishinoya asked, tilting his head. “Maybe he just wanted a change of scenery, and we’re his location of choice.”

Kuroo shook his head, clicking his tongue in a way that made all eyes in the room turn to him. “That one is always planning something,” he muttered. “That’s what makes him so dangerous.”

“Said the pot to the kettle.”

“Oi!” Kuroo turned a glare on Daichi, who simply shrugged. With a roll of his eyes, Tsukishima turned to Yamaguchi; the expression on his friend’s face made him pause, frown deepening.

The young Kyuuketsuki wore an unreadable expression; he gazed intently down at the floor, glaring as if it had done something to personally offed him. The dark look in his eyes was so out of character for the usually blithe boy that Tsukishima found himself raising his eyebrows. He wasn’t concerned; more intrigued, he told himself, by whatever seemed to be troubling Yamaguchi so much. Could it have to do with --

“Daichi.”

Yamaguchi spoke up so suddenly that even he looked slightly surprised by his own voice. When the attention of the group turned on him, he found himself faltering slightly, but didn’t back down. “I need to -- _Tsukishima_ and I need to talk to you. In private. And I think it might be really, really important.”

Tsukishima’s eyes widened minutely as he stared at his friend; next to him, he felt Hinata shift to stare at them both, and he knew that everyone else was probably doing the same. His attention, however, was focused solely on Yamaguchi, even when both Daichi and Sugawara stood up without a word and headed out of the room, Yamaguchi automatically rising to follow.

He didn’t have to wonder what this was about. He knew.

……

Akiteru wasn’t okay.

Looking back, maybe he hadn’t been okay for a long time. There had always been moments, instances, split seconds where flickers of something completely foreign to the usually gentle character of his older brother shone through.

A flicker of real malice in usually warm brown eyes; a smile that was more of a grimace whenever someone remarked on how tired he looked that day. These could all be written off as normal, expected responses, even - from a twenty-two year old with the future ahead of him. Akiteru had been aiming to leave the family farm; he wanted to see the world, he had remarked once, maybe find his way into the city and get rich there. Kei had thought that his brother made it all sound painfully simple, but Akiteru was a simple person when it suited him.

Before the attack, he always used to talk about the future. After he had stumbled out of the woods, that haunted look had never really left his eyes; it had lingered, a constant reminded of the trauma he had suffered and the nightmares that he wouldn’t allow anyone else in to see.

After the attack, a distance had sprung up between Kei and his brother - unbreachable, despite any efforts Akiteru may have made to try to restore the strength that had once held the relationship together. It hadn’t been created on purpose, but in many ways Kei found himself thankful for the breach between the two of them. He was haunted too, by the image of his brother lying ashen and feverish in bed, straddling the line between life and death; the weakness and vulnerability he had seen in his brother that day was something that would never leave him. And it terrified him.

Akiteru was always the strong one.

When he was little, and had been frightened by the great storms that would sweep the valleys, Akiteru had always held him. Over the din of thunder and illuminated by bright flashes of lightning, his brother had held him close and whispered in his ear: _“I will always protect you.”_

And now, Akiteru was fading away. It was so obvious that Kei couldn’t understand why he hadn’t noticed it before. It would be easy to say that he had only begun to really lose his brother after the insertion of Yamaguchi into their lives, but that would be too easy.

In reality, Akiteru had begun to slip away from him a long, long time ago. Now, he was caught in the clutches of a monster, and it was becoming all too obvious that Kei might not be able to get him back.

……

A heavy silence followed immediately after Yamaguchi’s words had faded off; on the faces of the two Kyuuketsuki sitting before them, an ominous shadow had come over their features. Kei hadn't spoken; he had barely been listening, honesty, as Yamaguchi explained the “situation” to the two elders in full. Perhaps it was selfish of him; after all, he was the one living with Akiteru, he was the only one who knew anything close to the full story. Yamaguchi could only say what he had seen, and what had been divulged to him by Tsukishima himself. He shouldn't be the one having to explain all of this; but when Tsukishima tried to open his mouth, his tongue felt glued down and his jaw was stiff as a corpse.

Yamaguchi was gnawing at his lip with vigor, peeling away strip after fragile strip of skin; Tsukishima, eyes catching on this, realized that his distracted mind had taken to staring, and he had half a mind to kick the other boy in the side and tell him to _stop_ before he made himself bleed. It wasn't like it would really matter to Yamaguchi, anyway.

After a moment, Sugawara broke the silence with a quiet sigh; next to him, Daichi’s shoulders were hunched as he leaned forward, and perhaps unconsciously Sugawara’s hand shifted to rest in the small of his partner’s back.

“This,” he said, voice almost gentle over the tense atmosphere of the room, “is bad.”

Tsukishima never could have guessed.

Daichi heaved a sigh, straightening his back and folding his hands together in front of him. His fingers danced off each other in a haphazard rhythm, and he formed a dome with his folded hands before glaring down at it intently. “From what you're describing, Yamaguchi, it sounds as if Oikawa has had Tsukishima’s older brother marked for a very long time - probably since that attack in the woods. He may have been lying in wait, but to wait this long is strange - the fact that it's only escalating now could have something to do with you?”

Yamaguchi took a moment to choke on his own spit. “M- me?”

“A Kyuuketsuki - especially a dominant one, like Oikawa Tooru - takes their property extremely seriously.” Sugawara was frowning too, looking more unsettled than Tsukishima had ever seen him. “When you consider Oikawa’s nature and abilities, it's very possible that he’s only begun feeding from Akiteru now, instead of observing from a distance, because he feels threatened by you. Oikawa has a very complex ability - he has the power to charm other people, to form automatic connections and get them to fall under his sway immediately. It's similar to Kageyama’s ability, really, except Kageyama has all the authority and none of the charm.”

 _Kageyama_ \- Tsukishima desperately racked his brain to remember just what Yamaguchi had said his power was again. The power of suggestion - he remembered now the quiet air of authority the teenage Kyuuketsuki seemed to carry around him, the stern look that seemed perpetual on his lofty face. His power was to demand immediate obedience to any order, no matter what it was. Yamaguchi had gushed over it - he'd thought a power like that was _“cool”_.

If Oikawa’s powers were anything like that, then they were screwed.

“So if he's only physically harming my brother now, what could his plan be?” Tsukishima’s fingernails were digging so hard into his thigh that he would have been surprised if he broke skin.

Sugawara bit his lip. “Oikawa is unpredictable, so we really don't know what he's planning. Even if we're right about why _now_ , we still don’t know why _Akiteru_ , or why wait this long - or, for that matter, why let him survive his initial attack in the first place.”

Akiteru had been missing - and presumed dead - for three entire months. Had he been held captive by Oikawa for all that time? Had he spent each day being tortured, abused, fed on by some sadistic bloodsucker with no clue how to keep his fangs to himself? The very idea made Kei’s teeth grind, and he fought back a shudder at the thought of his brother, cowering in some lonely cave (or _wherever_ the bastard had kept him), with no escape from the monsters in the darkness.

Why was Akiteru so special to Oikawa? He had _gotten away._ Why couldn't he just let them be?

“We might know one thing,” spoke up Daichi, his voice grim as Sugawara turned to look at him. “Seijoh might be moving this way under Oikawa’s demand because he's finally decided to make his move. If Tsukishima Akiteru is who he wants, then that could mean we are all in danger.”

Yamaguchi’s hand tightened around Tsukishima’s wrist; he hadn't even noticed the physical contact until then. “E- even Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asked, voice trembling slightly.

“Especially him. Tsukishima, if what your brother said to Yamaguchi is any indication, then the reality is that you aren't safe at home anymore.”

Tsukishima’s eyes widened noticeably behind his dark rimmed glasses; Daichi looked sympathetic, and that only seemed to anger him more. He _had_ to be safe in his own home.

“But - Kyuuketsuki can't enter a house without being invited,” he tried, somewhat desperately, though he knew that with Oikawa’s powers he'd have no trouble getting inside of he wanted to. And if he was inside Akiteru’s head…

He must have looked as desperate as he felt, and that only made his insides twist even more. Next to him, Yamaguchi’s voice was soft. “Tsukki…”

Daichi and Suga were both staring at him; pity shone in their eyes, pity for the boy on the brink of losing much more than just his brother. “My _parents_ are at home,” he hissed, and it was a struggle to keep him voice from breaking at the thought of something bad happening to them.

“We have to do something.” Yamaguchi’s words were quiet but firm. The two elder Kyuuketsuki glanced at each other, a silent conversation reflected in their eyes. They seemed to go back and forth for a moment (did they have telepathy? they couldn't. Tsukishima didn't know.) before turning back again, mirroring looks of solemnity on their faces.

“Tsukishima can stay with us if he likes, under the protection of Karasuno. As for his parents… having too many humans around might prove too much of a temptation for those of us without as much self control, but we can watch over the house, guard it, make sure no harm comes to -”

That wouldn't work. He knew it wouldn't. Tsukishima was already shaking his head before Daichi even finished speaking.

“I can't stay here,” he shot back quietly. No one seemed surprised to hear this, but Yamaguchi still let out a soft noise of distress at his side anyway.

“If you don't stay -”

“I _can't_ ,” he replied again, shaking his head.

Sugawara and Daichi exchanged another glance, and Tsukishima did his best not to imagine the sorts of things they would probably say, were he not in the room. His mind was too abuzz anyway. Thoughts of his brother lost in the darkness, his parents in danger, a monster walking into his house…

Ringing echoed in his ears; he wondered if his skull was going to split in two.

Distantly, he was aware that Yamaguchi’s hand had slipped into his, and was not letting go. The skin-to-skin contact seemed to burn. He didn't want to touch anyone right now. He wanted to be alone.

He wanted to be far, far away.

……

The next few minutes seemed to pass in a flurry of activity; under Daichi’s orders, Karasuno reassembled and the two leaders proceeded to brief the group on what Yamaguchi had told them. The flurry of activity roused by the knowledge that a human might be the target was enough to send Tsukishima’s already pounding head spinning. People were arguing, people were shouting, people were being eerily quiet, and all through it all his brother was lost out in the woods somewhere.

(Was he with Oikawa now? Was the enemy they were all so afraid of less than a mile away from them at this moment, draining the life from Kei’s brother? Was he already -)

And through it all, he was aware of Yamaguchi never leaving him alone. The other boy seemed to be clinging to his side as if Tsukishima were the only life raft in the midst of a shipwreck - or maybe he'd gotten the metaphor turned around. _Yamaguchi_ wasn't the one who felt like he was struggling to keep his head above the water; but he was still right there, sticking by him through all the confusion that followed.

People wanted to move, of course. No one really wanted to sit around and wait for the enemy clan to attack them. But Karasuno hadn't been involved in any sort of fighting for a long time; many of its members were out of shape, and a lot of the younger Kyuuketsuki (Yamaguchi, for example) had never even seen combat.

“Our lives are pretty peaceful,” Yamaguchi had told him once, late into the night when Kei was only half-listening. “We’re lucky. We don’t have to worry about constantly being threatened, and we’re far enough out of the way that humans almost never find us out. Our lives are pretty good, all things considered.”

It had sounded so simple then, such blissful words to come from Yamaguchi’s inexperienced lips -- now, it all sounded naive. Karasuno were all fools, Kei thought bitterly, glaring down at his clenched hands resting in his lap. Around him, he could hear some sort of argument going on -- half the group, led by Tanaka and Nishinoya, seemed to want to attack Seijoh head on, while Sugawara rallied those who erred more on the side of caution and wanted to wait the opposing clan out. Such _fools_. All of them. Didn’t they understand what was at stake here?

Maybe Yamaguchi had finally taken a hint; he wasn’t clinging to him anymore, and Tsukishima was grateful. The clan, however, seemed to be splitting into two - very vocal - sides. The buzzing in Tsukishima’s ears only seemed to grow worse with every shout, every cry, every raised voice.

When Daichi finally stood up and shouted above them all, sending the clan into silence almost immediately, Tsukishima couldn’t help but be glad. For the first time, he dragged himself back into the present moment and focused on the leader as he stood in front of him.

“Now. We are going to settle this rationally, instead of devolving into wild animals.” The look on Daichi’s face had even Tsukishima drawing back slightly; he hadn’t realized just how _terrifying_ the elder Kyuuketsuki could be if he put effort into it. The look on his face could stop a rampaging beast in its tracks, out of fear alone. Hands on hips, Sawamura Daichi made an imposing sight.

“Alright then,” he nodded after a moment, when no one tried to speak out of turn again. His gaze roved over the assembled group. “So, who among us thinks we should attack Seijoh first, and try to use the element of surprise to our advantage?”

Tentatively, more than a few hands were raised into the air; _like a class of schoolchildren,_ Tsukishima thought dryly as Daichi counted them out alive. “Tanaka, Nishinoya, Hinata, Kinoshita, and Narita. Alright. And how many would prefer to bide our time and prepare for an attack that may or may not come?”

The two outsiders, Kenma and Kuroo, seemed to be keeping quiet through all this; as more hands were raised solemnly, Tsukishima noted that Yamaguchi, too, had not cast his own vote. The freckled boy caught his eye and then quickly dropped his gaze, shrugging; it was obvious he seemed to feel as if he were betraying Tsukishima in some way by not wanting to attack, but he also didn’t feel right about sitting back and doing nothing. Tsukishima fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“Suga, Asahi, Ennoshita, Kiyoko, and Yachi. Okay. Yamaguchi, you haven’t voted.”

“I’m --” The boy coughed. “I’d rather be neutral on this one.”

Daichi simply nodded, accepting this answer without another question. “Okay. That brings it down to you -- Kageyama.”

Automatically, Tsukishima’s gaze swung towards the black haired boy, who had been sitting silent throughout the entire proceedings. Kageyama met his clan leader’s gaze steadily, but there was a terseness to his shoulders, an unease in his posture that made even Tsukishima feel the slightest bit nervous.

“You’ve fought alongside Oikawa before,” Daichi pointed out, and Kageyama’s scowl seemed to deepen even more. His hand clenched and unclenched at his side before he spoke, words thoughtful and deliberate.

“Oikawa-san is not one to underestimate his opponents. He will have considered, and may even be expecting us to attack him. It’s also true that many of us are either out of shape or underpowered, and our dietary habits have left us even weaker. Seijoh is far above our present fighting level.” His words trailed off; he tilted his head, looking deeply pensive. “But I can’t sit around and do nothing, either. If we do that and Oikawa attacks, we don’t stand a chance.”

“What do you suggest we do?” Sugawara’s voice was gentle; Tsukishima suspected that Kageyama didn’t speak up in the group very often, and the other Kyuuketsuki was doing his best to encourage him.

“I think… we can’t attack outright, not the way we are now. And we can’t be sitting ducks. If we could --”

_“Train!”_

The sudden exclamation of Hinata made a good majority of the group jump in their seats; a question in his eyes, the short redhead looked around at his clan members, who were now all staring at him as if he’d said something unprecedented.

“It’s obvious, right? If we practice and get stronger in the time we have before Seijoh gets here, then we’ll be ready! We aren’t helpless anyway -- some of us are really powerful and good fighters, like Kageyama and Tanaka -- but we can all get better! Then, when we go up against Seijoh, we won’t lose!”

“Don’t say that like it’s simple, you idiot!” Kageyama snapped promptly. “Aoba Johsai is strong.”

“So are we.” A cheeky smile overtook Hinata’s face as he quirked his head to the side. “And we can get stronger, if we just work at it a bit. We have enough time, don’t we?”

“At the rate Seijoh is moving, they’ll be knocking on your door in a week, at best,” supplied Kuroo helpfully.

“A week is enough!” Hinata rose from his seat, bounding to the center of the room; his eyes were shining with enthusiasm, and at once it seemed as if the room had gotten a whole lot brighter. It was as if the sun had come out on a cloudy day; Hinata’s excitement was contagious, seeming to spread through the room like wildfire. Tanaka, Yamaguchi, and a few others were already grinning; even Kageyama seemed energized, a newly intense look on his face.

Tsukishima could understand now how this little ball of light had the power to affect human emotions; with just a few words and a little bit of zeal, he’d managed to turn the temperature of an entire group of people from cold to hot. Now, Hinata turned to Daichi with a wide-eyed and hopeful look on his face, beseeching.

“It’s… worth a shot, at least.” He blinked owlishly up at the much taller man. “Right?”

Daichi seemed to consider this new plan seriously for a second; then, a fond smile slipping across his face, he reached out and easily ruffled Hinata’s already messy hair even further.

“All those in favor of this new plan?”

It wasn’t a surprise when every last member of the Karasuno coven - Yamaguchi included - raised their hands.

Tsukishima closed his eyes again, hypersensitive of the light weight of Yamaguchi’s shoulder pressing against his own. It was funny how easy it was to feel isolated, even surrounded by people, even with one idiot literally hanging off of your arm like a monkey. Tsukishima’s head wasn’t here, not really; his mind was lost out there in the woods with his brother.

Now that that was settled, did this mean they were going to find Akiteru?

Daichi had been speaking again, and Tsukishima hadn’t been listening; but suddenly, abruptly, as if his own distracted mind had conspired against him, his brain refocused again on a single statement. “Until this is all settled, no one here goes anywhere alone. In fact, I don’t want anyone leaving this base -- no wandering in the woods, no going into the villages. We’ll stay here -- all of us.”

Tsukishima sat up straight, his entire posture suddenly tense as a board. What on earth was Daichi saying?

“But I can go home, right?” He’d barely realized he had opened his mouth until the words were already flowing out, unhindered and thoughtless. “My family will be safe. And my brother -- you are going to help him, won’t you?”

Daichi was silent.

“He’s out there in the woods -- out there right now!”

Somewhat desperately, Tsukishima’s gaze swiveled around the group -- searching for anything in the sea of faces that wasn’t regret or pity. Why did they all _look_ like that? What was it that they weren’t saying?

His eyes landed on Yamaguchi, but the other boy was not looking at him. He was staring very, very intently at the floor.

“You are going to help him.” It was getting harder to speak; he didn’t tend to lose his composure, but panic was beginning to clog up his throat, making it harder to regulate his breathing and keep the words coming out of his mouth from sounding utterly desperate. “You’ve got to. He’s my brother.”

“Tsukishima…” Even Daichi sounded reluctant, as if he didn’t really know what to say. Tsukishima’s glare was trained on him full-force, stolid and violent and full of emotion that would have at any other time terrified him. It _was_ terrifying him, right at that moment -- but his brother was more important than any of that.

“Powers of the mind -- like Oikawa’s -- work better through repeated conditioning,” Sugawara finally spoke up, biting the bullet for them all. “If Oikawa’s been meeting with Akiteru so often, and he’s showing the symptoms you describe -- listless, paranoid, distracted -- it’s very likely that the connection he and Oikawa have is just too strong at this point. From the way Yamaguchi described his encounter, it’s quite possible that by now Oikawa is literally seeing out of your brother’s eyes. He has full control now.”

“So… then…” Tsukishima had to force the words out. “Where _is_ my brother?”

“Your brother is no longer in control of himself. He’s in his head, but… he might not be aware of what’s going on, or what he’s doing, whenever Oikawa takes control. He might know he’s there, but not be able to fight him off -- it’s basically like fighting against yourself. Only the other self, in this case, is Oikawa inside your brother’s head. And the simple fact is that Oikawa is stronger, and much more dangerous.

Was the room getting smaller? He couldn't tell. But all eyes were on him, his heart was palpitating against his ribcage, and Kei felt very, very cold.

“My brother would never hurt me.”

“But Oikawa would. It’s too dangerous, Tsukishima. We can confront Oikawa, but it’s best we _all_ stay away from Akiteru.”

Daichi took a tentative step towards the blond teen, who was already tense as a live wire. Tsukishima was on the verge of snapping, and everyone could see it. “We won’t let any harm come to you,” the leader said, holding out his hands. “You can stay with us for the time being, safe--”

“And let my brother be the puppet of some -- _monster_?”

The dam broke; the camel’s back snapped; Tsukishima had had _enough_. He sprung up from his seat, forcefully knocking Yamaguchi back as he did so -- but he couldn’t care about his friend right now. A seething rage was choking him, wrapping it’s hands around his neck and sinking poisoned fangs deep into his chest. He could feel the fury spilling out of him, echoed in every movement; the furious gleam of his eyes, the way he stepped forward and squared off against Daichi, making everyone suddenly very aware that he was one of the tallest people in the room.

“You think I would just abandon my brother like that?” he snarled. “Do you have any sense of what it means to be human, or did you lose that when you _died_?”

“I’ve been dead for a century,” Daichi replied evenly -- quite admirably not backing down. “There are some things I haven’t forgotten. I know how hard --”

“You know _nothing_!” Tsukishima was burning. Out of the corner of his eye he realized that Hinata was trembling, the force of the emotions pulsing out of Tsukishima in waves bringing the redhead’s own anger to the brim as well. Hinata looked ready to explode. Next to him, the little blonde girl -- Yachi -- looked frightened out of her mind. Kuroo was lounging back in his seat, an eyebrow quirked like he was watching a particularly interesting show, and Sugawara was worrying at his lip to the point where it was a wonder he hadn’t bitten it off entirely. “ _None_ of you do.”

He wasn’t wanted here. He and his rage were not welcome. He did not _want_ to be here.

He only belonged in one place, and that was with his family. That was where he would be safe.

(He knew he wouldn’t be safe; not really. But lying to himself, even for a second, was so, so much easier.)

His eyes burned into Daichi’s for a minute longer, the sheer intensity of his glare causing a hint of reluctance to creep into even the much older vampire’s steady gaze. Then he promptly turned on his heel and stormed out.

He didn’t stop; not even when he heard the voice shouting after him, not even when he reached the door and suddenly felt arms grabbing at him, persistent hands trying to slow his stead, pull him back. He brushed them off like water, and stormed out into the dark night.

“Tsukishima! Don’t go, Tsukki, don’t -- _please_ \--”

His brother was out here. He was here somewhere, and he was in danger. Tsukishima needed to find Akiteru now, and that was the only thing he knew for certain. A whole mess of facts and acquired information swirled around in his head, weaving a complicated web of danger and inevitable failure, but Tsukishima wouldn’t give up. He couldn’t. Not while His brother was lost and vulnerable and so very, very alone.

He wasn’t a good person. He wasn’t a good family member, or a good friend. He wasn’t even loyal. He never claimed to be.

But dammit, if he cared about anything in the world it was his brother.

 ** _“TSUKKI!”_** There was a new fierceness to Yamaguchi’s tone now; this time, when he grabbed at him, Tsukishima was indeed yanked back. He stumbled, quickly regaining his balance, and then turned to glare at Yamaguchi.

“Go back,” he ordered, his voice hard; but Yamaguchi didn’t even flinch.

“I won’t let you go out here alone.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“I _won’t_ let you get yourself killed!”

Tsukishima stared at the boy in front of him -- Yamaguchi, wild-eyed, trembling, passionate and utterly desperate -- for a long moment. Then, he made a familiar _‘tch’_ sound with his tongue before turning away again.

“You’re pathetic,” he shot back coldly, eyes scanning the woods around him for the barest moment; it all seemed so dark, so devoid of life.

“Don’t you get it?” Yamaguchi’s words were choked and frantic, and no, indeed, Tsukishima did not get it, because the other boy was in such a rush to get his words out that they were barely even intelligible. But Yamaguchi was nothing if not stupidly persistent. “He’s here! Oikawa’s here, out here _now_ , and he’s close! He’s been watching us for a long time, Tsukki, and I knew it was something but _he_ always made me believe that it was nothing! He can do that! He can mess with your head, and hurt you! I won’t let him hurt you!”

Tsukishima took a moment to process these words, not allowing any visible reaction to show on his face; he remembered Yamaguchi’s odd behavior when they were lost in the woods together, he remembered the sensation of eyes on him from the treeline. Of course... Oikawa had been watching for a long time.

Of course he was here now. _With Akiteru._

They had to be close.

“Go back home, Yamaguchi,” ordered Tsukishima firmly, utterly unwilling to meet the other boy’s eye. “Don’t you know how to accept the fact that something’s your fault?”

His words would sting; they were supposed to. From the soft sound of surprise Yamaguchi made, he knew they’d had the desired effect.

“M- my... _my_ fault?”

“If you had just left me alone -- with your stupid firefly charms and surprise visits and all of _you_ \-- do you really think Oikawa would be here now? You heard your leader. He’s only doing this now because he feels threatened. _You_ started this.”

It wasn’t fair. He knew it wasn’t. Maybe it wasn’t even true… but he was so angry. And Yamaguchi was right there.

One hand furiously tore at his wrist, snapping a fragile string; not glancing back, he flung the bracelet bearing the firefly charm over his shoulder towards where he was sure Yamaguchi was standing. “I’ll clean up this mess for myself. You, stay out of it. And away from me, in case you couldn’t figure that part out on your own.”

He didn’t wait to see -- or rather, hear -- Yamaguchi’s reaction. He didn’t want to bear witness to the choked, furiously suppressed sobs, or the shaky whisper of _“Tsukki”_. He didn’t want to feel Yamaguchi’s hands touching his again. He didn’t want to be close enough to him to count the freckles on his cheeks, or to feel his lack of breath against his skin. He wanted to be far, far away.

So he ran.

He ran, and he ran, and he didn’t realize he was shouting until the words coming out of his mouth hit him all at once. A somewhat desperate, choked mixture of “Akiteru,” and _“onii-chan”,_ echoing throughout the dark woods. Tsukishima haphazardly plowed through brambles, swerved around trees, and he couldn’t tell if he was the one who was crying -- though he also really, really, didn’t want to know.

When he found them, it was sudden -- completely unexpected. He was taken by surprise. In a way, perhaps Oikawa was the one who had found him.

Oikawa Tooru was, in a word, _beautiful_. Tsukishima half-heartedly racked his brain for any other adjective, but this was the only one that came to the fore-front of his mind. Broad-shouldered and slim, with wiry muscles and perfectly coiffed hair that somehow fell in a completely natural style about his head like a halo, Oikawa _was_ beautiful. Caught in the rays of moonlight, bathed by the glow falling upon his face and shoulders, his flawless skin seemed almost iridescent; when he opened his eyes, they were a deep, chocolatey brown that seemed all too easy to get lost in.

When he turned to Tsukishima, he smiled. The blood on his teeth perhaps ruined the Adonis effect a bit, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Took you long enough, Kei-chan.”

His voice was light, like spun candyfloss, and somehow seemed to bounce with each word. Yet Kei’s eyes weren’t focused on the Kyuuketsuki anymore, but rather the figure wrapped up in his arms -- obviously drawing on Oikawa’s support to remain standing. In the moonlight, he could make out hair the color of cornsilk, a bowed head; blood was slick as it trickled down his neck, from a point just below his ear.

 _“Onii-chan…_ ” Kei’s voice was a keen, high and frail; he almost didn’t recognize it himself.

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a long time,” Oikawa continued, taking a step forward and dragging Akiteru along with him. Every rational instinct in Kei’s body was screaming for him to run, but he was frozen.

“Akiteru has told me a lot about you. He’s very proud of his baby brother; he loves you very much. But you already knew that, didn’t you?” The man - _monster_ \- chuckled, light and nauseating. “We’ve gotten to know each other very well, haven’t we, Aki-chan?” he asked, glancing with an almost fondness at the human supported in his arms before turning back to Kei once again. “But I haven’t met Kei-chan in person yet -- and I’ve been waiting for a very long time.”

 _Say something,_ his brain urged. _**Say** something._

He couldn’t. He was speechless, helpless, totally at the mercy of Oikawa’s eyes and the slumped form of his older brother supported in the demon’s arms.

“I know you’ve made friends in Karasuno,” Oikawa continued on, slowly lowering Akiteru towards the ground as if he were nothing -- just an inconsequential burden upon his shoulders which he was glad to get rid of. “How inconvenient. I hope you didn’t get too attached to any of them -- after all, since we’re going to become good friends, I would hate to have any rivals for your affection.”

“I --”

Somehow he had almost managed to force a word out of his mouth; but Oikawa stepping forward immediately turned his tongue to lead. At this close proximity, Tsukishima’s head was spinning; his nose was filled with the scent of strawberries and new books, and he could see pink dots dancing in front of his vision. He felt very, very dizzy, and as if he were floating.

“ _Very_ good friends,” Oikawa repeated, eyes narrowed and intent on Kei’s neck. An icy finger brushed over the teen’s carotid artery. Oikawa’s mouth turned up in a dazzling smile that somehow made Kei feel like smiling as well. “And I couldn’t be happier…”

Kei found himself taking a step forward as well, unwittingly, involuntarily. He couldn’t think straight; he couldn’t think at all. And this was so much _worse_ than the way he’d felt under Hinata’s power, because at least then he couldn’t feel _anything_. Now, however, he felt totally, blissfully content, even with his brother lying unmoving on the ground just a few feet away, and with a monster wrapping him in a hug.

“You don’t… _mind_ , do you?” Oikawa whispered against Kei’s ear, and the teen felt himself shudder; of it’s own accord, his head began to bob in acquiescence, to what he didn’t even know.

He wanted so badly to feel scared. But wasn’t he tired of feeling scared in the first place?

This was better. Oikawa was a bright light in an otherwise pitch black night, the teeth grazing his skin didn’t hurt, the nails digging into his back --

“I’m _sure_ he minds.”

Another voice suddenly cut through the haze -- crisp and clear and electric, and suddenly Kei felt himself being flung to the ground. He fell hard, landing unprepared on his back; for a moment, he saw stars that had nothing to do with any Kyuuketsuki power. But the most important thing was that no one was touching him anymore -- that overwhelming heat, that sensation of being smothered and _enjoying_ it, had vanished.

“Ah. If it isn’t Refreshing-kun. It’s been quite a long time, hasn’t it, _Suga-chan?_ I’d almost forgotten how annoying you can be when you’re angry.”

“He isn’t yours, Oikawa.”

“I beg to differ.”

“ _Why?_ What do you stand to gain from this?”

Tsukishima’s head was spinning. It was still hard to focus -- so hard, too hard. He sat up, pulse pounding in his ears, and automatically his hand drifted to the side of his neck. He found no slickness, no sting that would suggest a wound; Oikawa’s fangs hadn’t found their mark, then.

 _Akiteru_. His eyes fell on his brother, just a short distance away, and he needed to get to him --

But Oikawa was standing in between them, now, and someone else, too -- _Sugawara_? What was he doing here?

“You really have no clue? Come _on_ , Suga-chan. You’ve heard the rumors too, haven’t you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. About Shiratorizawa. Collecting human children. Kitagawa Daiichi burning up villages, slaughtering entire towns, just for one or two brats to bring back to Ushijima. You have heard. You aren’t stupid, even though that shiny hair of yours might make people think you have your head in the clouds, are you? You’ve heard.”

“And what do the rumours have to do with these two brothers?”

“That’s the thing, Suga-chan -- they’re _not_ rumors.”

He couldn’t follow the conversation. Kei tried to crawl along the ground, but his muscles gave out on him. His head was pounding too hard to focus on anything, and he just wanted to curl up and sleep.

“Ask your own clan. They drank his blood, didn’t they? They _know_. They may not have realized it yet, but they know what he is. What they both are.”

“... that’s your motive? You’re doing this --”

“I’m doing this because I want to be powerful. I _will_ be powerful. I’ll be the one to overthrow Ushiwaka, and I’m going to do it with the help of these two and their precious, precious blood. They’ll make me powerful.”

“Shiratorizawa has at least a dozen children, just like these two.”

“I waited for a reason, Suga-chan. You know just as well as I do that an adult’s blood is always so much more… potent than a two year old’s. Akiteru here has been so cooperative --”

“Don’t touch him, Oikawa!”

“... I _really_ don’t want to fight you, Sugawara. Don’t make me. You won’t win.”

Kei was losing his grip on the world around him. There was nothing to hold on to -- words seemed to slide over his head like waves, and darkness crept across his vision. Distantly, he was almost aware of the sound of someone saying his name, and for the briefest moment he imagined it was his mother…

But then everything was quiet, and everything was still. He let his eyes close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bitch was LONG. The longest chapter yet, guys, about 8, 500 words, TWENTY PAGES.
> 
> So... yeah. Things are getting exciting.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, how much do i suck?
> 
> this chapter simply would not write itself, and literally no one but kuroo was cooperating with me as i was trying to write it. i think i'm back in the swing now, and next chapter things are really going to get intense -- i might have to make this a chapter or two longer than twelve, i'm not sure yet. but the next chapter definitely will NOT take as long.

This time, when Kei opened his eyes to the pale ceiling of a dimly lit, spartan room, there was no one at his side.

He hadn't really expected Yamaguchi to be there, so it didn't hurt as much as it probably should have. As it was, a dull ache had taken up residence in his chest and a pounding in his head. He felt, quite bluntly, like he’d been kicked in the skull by a horse. No use making himself feel even worse by mourning over the absence of someone he’d deliberately pushed away. If his eyes roved somewhat wistfully around the empty room when he pushed himself into a seated position... well, that was his business.

He leaned back, and for several blissful minutes he was able to ignore the way his headache seemed to pulse, knocking around in his skull like a game of pinball. The silence was a relief. When he searched his mind most of last night’s events came clearly to him; but memories that followed running away from Yamaguchi in the woods were more than vague. Everything after catching sight of Oikawa’s face for the first time seemed to fade into a dull fog, impossible to discern or recall in any clarity. Only the eventual presence of Sugawara really stood out in his mind -- he didn’t remember if the Kyuuketsuki fought, or even at what point he passed out. The fact that he was back at Karasuno now --and apparently safe -- was enough to tell him that things must have worked out well. But what _had_ happened? And if Akiteru wasn’t here with him… then where was he?

It took him awhile to finally build up the resolve to drag himself downstairs -- and that was only after being assured by the utter silence in the house that it was probably morning already, and thus he wouldn’t run into anyone else. Kei did not like interacting with other people on a good day. This was not a good day.

Morning light shone clearly through the window when he dared to part the heavy curtains and add some brightness to the front parlor; that’s why he was doubly surprised to walk into the kitchen and find Sugawara comfortably seated at the counter, hunched over a book.

The first thing Kei noticed was that for someone who had squared off against a supposedly much more powerful Kyuuketsuki only a few hours ago, Sugawara was in pretty good shape. Sure, his hair was messy, and the dark circles under his eyes were only made more evident by the waxy pallor of his skin. But he wasn’t visibly injured, and he definitely still had his head attached to his shoulders. (That was probably a good thing -- if decapitation really wasn’t enough to kill vampires, the only other thing Kei could think of was a stake to the heart. He’d read about that during his research binge, and had noted it for future reference; still, he couldn’t help but think that for such _“powerful immortal beings”_ , being done in by a piece of wood was pretty sad.)

The second thing he noticed was that Sugawara was asleep.

The man hadn’t glanced up when Kei walked into the room; closer now, he could see that Sugawara’s head was braced against his palm, and his eyes were shut. He was totally dead to the world, no irony intended.

What had happened? Had he been waiting up for something? Had he gotten tired and just not made it back to his coffin in time? (Was that a stereotype? It sounded like it probably was -- an _offensive_ one.)

Kei stared at him for a long moment before sniffing, turning away, and beginning to rummage through the cabinets for something edible. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t any of his business. Sugawara could do what he liked.

… besides, it wasn’t as if he had _asked_ him to save him. He hadn’t. He didn’t owe Sugawara anything, not even gratitude.

He hadn’t intended to wake the Kyuuketsuki, but the sound of a box of crackers being torn into roused him anyway. He lifted his head off of his palm, and blinked drowsily in the kitchen’s low light for a moment before the corners of his lips turned up slightly at the sight of Kei. The teenager stared back impassively, slumping into a seat at the counter as far away from Sugawara as possible.

“Don't you know it's considered bad etiquette to sleep in the same place that you eat?”

Sugawara only smiled benignly in response, and somehow this caused a twitch to start up in Kei’s eye. He wasn't sure what annoyed him more -- people that remained blithely oblivious when he was actively _trying_ to be a bastard or people that took it in stride. Somehow Sugawara managed to be _both_ at once.

“I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.” He shook his head again, as if to clear it, and closed the book in front of him with a soft thud. “I’m supposed to be keeping watch, but I guess I’m just not used to staying up so early.” Kei raised an eyebrow, tsking around a mouthful of stale cracker; as if reading his mind, Sugawara chuckled. “Falling asleep on the job; I guess I’m sort of a delinquent, huh?”

The teenager only shrugged in response, not quite wanting to care enough to be actually interested. “If Karasuno is starting up a watch, then will it only be one person for an entire day? That’s foolish, since you can barely stay awake just a few hours into morning.”

“We’re reckless, not foolish; it will be me for the first half of the day, and then Kuroo volunteered to take over around noon. He and Kenma are both willing to stay to help us with ‘our little annoyance’; we’re very grateful to them. The Nekoma clan has always been an ally to us.”

Somehow hearing that Bedhead and his disconcerting blond shadow were going to be sticking around didn’t do much to cheer Kei up. It must have shown in his face, because Sugawara was quick to change tactics.

“You’re up, too, Tsukishima! I’m glad. When someone gets inside your head like that, it can be… tiring for the mind to recover.”

“What happened to my brother?”

The question came suddenly, but it was not unanticipated. It had been hanging over them both since the moment Sugawara had opened his eyes, since the moment he had cut in between Kei and Oikawa. The fair haired man blinked, and then nodded his head. He’d been expecting this.

“I was right about Oikawa having a hold on your brother,” he said quietly; Kei’s gaze bore holes into him, narrowed and unreadable.

“If anything, Oikawa’s gotten more powerful since the last time I've seen him. We've gone toe-to-toe before; his mental abilities are stronger than mine. But last night… Kei, Oikawa has managed to form a bond with your brother. This is something that only psychic vampires can do, and it is both difficult and dangerous. Most Kyuuketsuki don't do anything like it, because forming a bond with a human links them to you mentally in a way that would actually harm you if they died. The bond that Oikawa has with Akiteru enables him to have full control whenever he pleases; and he has been feeding off Akiteru for some time. I think -- I know that this is what Oikawa was planning to do to you as well. Had I not stepped in when I did, he would have succeeded.”

“When he got into my head…” Kei couldn't force the words out. Disdain curled his lip, and fury at himself caused his teeth to grind together.

When Suga spoke again, his voice was gentle. “Tsukishima, what do you remember?”

His head pounded when he tried to recall; the memories were faint, substanceless, liquid slipping through his fingers. He couldn't get a solid grasp on anything aside from the memory of Oikawa's face, with his brother nestled in his arms... trying to push further, for details or conversation left him feeling a bit dizzy and more than a little violated. The sensation in his own head, of his own memories being distorted, bothered him more than he was even capable of expressing.

“Not much,” he admitted grudgingly. “I left Yamaguchi, and then… I was looking for my brother. I remember seeing him… bleeding. And I remember that my will wasn't my own, and _you_ were there…” He could also remember the feeling of fingers, hard and clammy on his skin; but he didn't want to share that.

Sugawara pressed his lips into a tight line, nodding. “I know why Oikawa is focused on the two of you,” he said, and that was when Kei perked up.

All this time, a monster had been targeting them and Kei had no idea why. An answer -- any answer -- could make the whole situation much clearer.

“The entire thing is complicated; I'll be brief with what I know. Tsukishima, do you know much about genetics? Blood types? That sort of thing?”

There was a pause; Kei shook his head. Sugawara didn’t seem surprised.

“I figured not. It’s still very much a developing science; back when I was in medical school, we knew even less than we do now. But you know, of course, that there are certain blood types - A, B, O, those ones. Then there are bloodtypes like AB, A+, A-; variations on different blood types, but all very valid blood that people have. Having a different blood type isn’t special; it doesn’t give you any sort of unusual power or anything like that. But as I’ve said, the study of blood -- and by extension, the study of humans themselves -- is still constantly evolving.”

Kei watched Sugawara carefully, being careful not to show any outward signs of what he was feeling; inwardly, he was baffled. What did different blood types have to do with him and his brother? As if sensing his bafflement, Sugawara caught his eye with a reassuring sort of half-smile; but it faded as quickly as it appeared, leaving Kei feeling dissettled and uneasy.

“For the past several years there have been rumours about the Shiratorizawa coven- the most powerful coven in Japan. People _say_ that they have been harvesting human children for a rare mutation in their blood. Apparently, a genetic mutation -- a new blood type -- is in the process of developing among young humans. It has little effect on the human itself, but an interesting one for Kyuuketsuki. Supposedly, this ‘rare blood’ works to make its drinker stronger overall -- more physically able, more attuned with their powers, more dangerous.

“Many people think of the existence of these children as nothing more than a rumor; but the fact is, it's true. Shiratorizawa has been after these children for a while now; they have smaller clans raiding villages where a ‘golden’ child is suspected of living. The clans can take what they want from the village without any consequence, as long as the specific children are brought to Shiratorizawa. Once there, they are imprisoned; Shiratorizawa holds them captive and feeds off of them.”

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Kei could no longer meet Sugawara’s eye; his gaze had drifted down to his wrist, where he studied the blue veins that ran stark along the pale skin with wary interest. He was shocked when a sudden touch of his hand jerked him back to attention; Sugawara’s skin was icy, but his expression radiated warmth. Somehow, Tsukishima still felt miles apart from any form of comfort.

“We've known about the existence of these children for a while now,” explained Suga, voice even quieter than it had been. “Hinata, who’s barely more than a fledgling, had his village raided six months ago. His family was lost, and Hinata was injured. Later on, I found him and turned him to save his life.”

Despite his tone being steady as he recounted this, his eyes betrayed his own grief. Kei recalled the way the little redhead had tensed up during the conversation with Kuroo, and shifted at the nausea suddenly churning in his stomach. He might be apathetic, but he wasn't a monster.

“Hinata had the mutated blood. That's how I realized that it wasn't a myth. I know, Shiratorizawa knows, but only a select few others do -- and Oikawa is one of them. Tsukishima, this is all important for you to know, because _you_ carry this mutated blood type. It's genetic -- so does your brother. This is why Oikawa is after you. He wants to use you and your brother to empower his clan -- but mainly himself -- and then overthrow Shiratorizawa.”

Kei blinked at him; a smudge on his glasses was irritating him, so he pulled them off, rubbed the lens with his sleeve, and replaced them in the bridge of his nose once more.

That was it? After all this hassle, all this destruction and pain and loss, all of it had been over some abnormality in his blood? Something so insignificant that it really wouldn't matter to anyone who didn't go around drinking it on a daily basis? All of this had been caused because he and his brother were somehow different? Because of something so _meaningless_ as the blood in their veins?

That wasn't fair.

“Okay,” he said to Sugawara. His voice was quiet, subdued, utterly flat. He didn't care. He didn't care he _didn't care he didn't care--_

_He didn't care that he was losing his brother._

_He didn't care that he might have already lost him._

_He didn't care that a monster was after his blood._

_He didn't care that he could have died last night._

_He didn't care that he had been so **helpless**._

“Tsukishima --” Sugawara began, but then seemed to think better of it. Any and all possible walls the teen could have put up were raised high; his expression was closed off, and his demeanor reeked of hostility. He was the farthest thing imaginable from a person prepared to have any sort of emotional heart-to-heart.

Sighing, Sugawara rose from the table; he gathered his book under his arm and stepped back, studying Kei for a long moment. His gaze wasn't penetrating, but it was uncomfortable enough that the teen turned his head away.

“If you want to talk -- about anything -- please know that you can come to me. It isn't safe for you to leave, and I am supposed to be keeping guard so if I realize that you've left I'll have to go after you. It’d probably be pretty difficult to explain to your parents why a fully grown man has followed you out of the woods and is refusing to leave you alone, so... stick around for a few days, okay? Just until the storm passes. Once things return back to normal, you can go back to your old life with your brother, and never have to think about any of us ever again.”

That was what Kei wanted, after all. That was all he wanted.

“There's a library upstairs. You might like it.”

Kei kept his gaze stubbornly trained on the counter until he finally heard the kitchen door close. Left alone in the dimly lit room with nothing but a handful of stale crackers and his own thoughts for company, he leaned his head on his arms and heaved a long sigh.

......

If there's anything that Tsukishima Kei was exceptionally good at, it was sulking.

It's not as if it was difficult. Sitting around and looking pissed off at the world was easy when you spent 95% of your time pissed off at the world anyway, and the fact that he had a resting face like someone had spit in his coffee didn't hurt either. Kei was good at sulking; sometimes, he even liked it.

This was not one of those times. Right now, he was sulking because his life unequivocally sucked.

Being targeted by killer Kyuuketsuki himself would be bad enough; having his brother fall prey to them was worse. Being essentially a prisoner in a house full of the very same creatures who would apparently receive a major power-boost from one sip of his blood was cause for justifiable paranoia, and the knowledge that he’d managed to alienate his closest -- _only? Did he even have any other friends outside of Yamaguchi?_ \-- friend was downright depressing.

But if there was any force on earth capable of somehow making his day _worse_ , it was Kuroo. And dammit, he was trying his best.

Kei didn’t leave the kitchen for the next four hours. Sugawara didn’t bother him; aside from sticking his head in once to tell him that shifts were changing and he was going to bed, Kei was left completely alone for the first part of the day.

With Kuroo on watch, it was a different story. Either he was just bored and didn’t have anything else to do, or he _really_ liked hounding Kei, but the man would not leave him alone. Eventually, after numerous instances of being interrupted, poked in on, and otherwise annoyed at least once every fifteen minutes, Kei was considering tracking down that library just to get away. Predictably, Kuroo had other plans.

“You're still in here?”

Kei didn't spare a glance up from the book he’d swiped from Sugawara hours ago. He'd been doing a fair job of pretending to read ever since. “Yes. Does that bother you?”

“Not particularly,” Kuroo chirped - actually _chirped_ , like the world's most annoying bird. “Mind if I joined you?”

“I'd rather you didn't.” Kei was under no illusion that this would actually stop him.

“ _Why_? We can chat.”

“I have no desire to _chat_ with you about anything other than you going on a long journey to somewhere far, far away from me.”

“Wo-ow.” Kuroo whistled under his breath, sinking down into the seat across from Kei. He leaned forward on his elbows, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he zeroed in on the blond’s impassive gaze. “I’d heard that you were kind of a brat, but they really weren't kidding, were they? Are you ever in a good mood, or is that like an every-full-moon kind of thing?”

Kei slowly raised an eyebrow. “You're implying that I'm a werewolf,” he said flatly. “You.”

“I was joking.”

“You're bad at it, and you should leave.”

At once, Kuroo’s eyes narrowed; he leaned further across the table, snapping his fingers a bit too close to Kei’s face. “I'll tell you what _does_ bother me, Tsukishima,” he said at once. “I don't like people who sit around feeling sorry for themselves.”

“And that's what I'm doing?”

“That's exactly what you're doing,” Kuroo shot back. Kei’s spine had gone stiff; his eyes, locked on to Kuroo’s, narrowed. A pleasant smile slipped across his face, and he relished the slight crease of Kuroo’s brow at the unexpected response.

“Thank you for your input. Our customer service team will take it into review, and we’ll get back to you if we ever decide you're worth listening to -- which we won't. Have a nice day.”

“Listen to _this_ , you sarcastic shit,” Kuroo growled, perfectly irritated. “I'm trying to help you.”

“Why?” demanded Kei, voice harsher than he'd meant it to be. His own tone was his giveaway; Kuroo caught it, a twitch of his brow all the assurance Kei needed that he was being seen through.

“Your situation sucks. You're _scared_. I get it --”

“You don't ' _get_ ' anything about me,” Kei shot back at once, voice cold. Kuroo didn't even flinch.

“Fine. I _know_ you're scared. I also know that you care -- deep down in that thorny, frigid little heart of yours, you care about Yamaguchi. And you sure as hell care about your brother.”

The mention of the two people he wanted to think about the least (and yet was still thinking about the most) had Kei tensing up involuntarily, spine stiffening and eyes flashing dangerously across the counter at Kuroo. Clearly the Kyuuketsuki was not gifted with any instinct of self-preservation; instead of being intimidated by the hostility radiating off Kei in waves, he almost looked sadistically pleased.

“He was crying, you know. When he got back. He wouldn't tell anyone what happened, but after Sugawara carried you back he went up to his room and stayed there. Yamaguchi's hurting too, a lot.” Kuroo allowed his words to trail off; he studied his own palm, casually running his fingers along the lines and creases there. As Tsukishima watched on in amazement, a series of sparks began to flare up in the center of the Kyuuketsuki’s palm; soon enough it had been kindled into a small, glowing flame which Kuroo continued to painlessly dance his fingers through as he looked up again.

“Let me help you, Tsukishima. Isn't that what you want more than anything -- to be able to protect yourself? You don't like feeling helpless. But right now, that's exactly what you are. So you can sit here and sulk until Oikawa shows up with fangs bared, or you can stand up and learn how to fight back.”

A long silence followed Kuroo’s words; Kei, eyes narrowed, pierced the older man with a critical glare. Kuroo stared back, the gleam in his eyes a clear challenge; normally Kei wouldn't have take the bait, but that speech had gotten under his skin in just the right way. He had hurt Yamaguchi; what's worse, he had failed his brother. Didn't he owe it to them, at the very least, to do something?

“... you can teach me that?”

Kuroo’s lips stretched wide, teeth baring in a predatory grin. “I'm a nice guy. Sure I will. Will you quit being such a jerk about everything?”

“No.”

The dark haired man tilted his head, and then shrugged. “Fair enough,” he replied, before reaching out towards him. The flame in Kuroo’s hand flickered and vanished immediately, the illusion leaving not even a trace of heat when he clapped Kei on the shoulder. It took all his willpower, but Kei actually managed not to cringe away.

……

Looking back, it seemed obvious that Kuroo was able to issue this offer of solidarity in such confidence because he knew full well what was going to happen: Kei was going to get his ass kicked. To the very desperate boy who had accepted this offer, however -- Tsukishima Kei, currently undergoing the world’s most subdued nervous breakdown -- this fact was not obvious until the moment he was literally splayed out on the ground, Kuroo’s foot planted in the middle of his chest.

“You have no fighting style,” remarked Kuroo matter-of-factly from somewhere above him. “None.”

“Forgive me for not being as skilled in the art of using young humans as my personal punching bags as you seem to be.” Any causticity in these words was detracted, somewhat, by the fact that Kei was sort of scrabbling around on the ground like a beetle as he said them. It took at least a minute -- to Kei’s _utmost_ indignation -- for the Kyuuketsuki to take the hint.

Kuroo actually offered him a hand, hauling Kei to his feet with a soft grunt. Battered, bruised, and thoroughly humiliated, Tsukishima already regretted this very much.

“You’ve got the height,” Kuroo continued, running Kei’s body over with his eyes. “And I guess you’ve got some lean muscle too -- like, you’d probably be good riding a horse, ever thought of that?”

“I live on a farm.”

“Oh. Well, it’s your fighting style that needs work, and your reflexes; not to mention motivation. I hope you’d put up more of a fight if someone were actually trying to kill you, otherwise you wouldn’t even be worth the effort.”

Kei’s brow furrowed in indignation, and he drew back from Kuroo; the other man’s coolness was both irritating and sort of frightening. Especially given the fact that he _could_ fight -- he’d had Kei on his back in less than thirty seconds, and that had only been round one.

“This is just battle strategy, Tsukishima.” Kuroo’s lips quirked up as he took a step back; Kei didn’t like the way his expression seemed to imply that Kuroo knew something he didn’t. “This is the easy stuff. What do you say, we go again?”

His response was a noncommital shrug; this seemed to please Kuroo all the same. Rearing back, he squared up against Tsukishima; in response, the teen pulled himself to his full height, turning all the force of his best glare upon the nuisance. Kuroo’s smirk only widened.

When he swung his fist the first time Kei was ready; he ducked, moving out of the blow’s trajectory, but inadvertently leaving the perfect opening for Kuroo to lunge forward and seize him from behind. Nails dug sharp into his wrist as he twisted it behind him, and in somewhat of a panic Kei kicked backwards. His boot connected hard with Kuroo’s knee, but the Kyuuketsuki didn’t seem to feel it; instead, he only tightened his hold. With both arms locked behind him, Kei was pulled tight against his assailant’s chest; the lack of breath on his skin was disconcerting as Kuroo leaned close to his ear.

“It’s just fighting, Tsukki. You keep your head, and it’s easy. You panic, and you lose.”

He automatically chafed at the use of such a familiar nickname; Kuroo didn’t have _permission_ to use that name, that title which had belonged only to him and Yamaguchi alone. Golden eyes narrowed; suddenly Kuroo’s grip on his skin felt like it was _burning_. The man chuckled softly, the sound muffled by Kei’s own jaw. “But you sure are making this fun--”

This brief moment of distraction was all the opportunity Kei needed to rear his head back and slam it into Kuroo’s face. Harsh? Definitely. But of every way Kuroo could have gotten under his skin, using Yamaguchi’s nickname for him was the worst. As the Kyuuketsuki jerked back, sputtering and cursing, Kei deftly twisted out of his grip and rounded back on his again, ready.

“That,” Kuroo spat when he regained the ability to speak, hand covering his doubtlessly sore nose, “was cheating.”

“Can’t the master take his own advice back from the student?” Kei retorted, lips quirked and tone malicious. “You told me to keep my head. That means you shouldn’t get distracted.”

Kuroo’s face darkened, an expression much more serious -- and somehow more frightening -- overtaking his previously relaxed countenance. Now they were both taking this seriously; Kei didn’t have time to wonder whether that was a good or bad thing before Kuroo suddenly lashed out again, going directly for his legs. Kei jumped back, twisting to the side and waiting for Kuroo to come at him again. When he did, a deft punch aimed at his jaw, Kei was quick to duck; this time he actually managed to land a punch on Kuroo’s abdomen. It wasn’t very hard, but the Kyuuketsuki grunted all the same; when an iron grip suddenly descended over his shoulders, this time Kei managed not to lose his head. Kuroo’s grip was strong, but this left his lower body vulnerable. This time, the kick he landed against Kuroo’s knee was accompanied by an elbow to the stomach; the Kyuuketsuki stumbled back again.

“Not… bad,” Kuroo wheezed; with his head ducked, it actually seemed as if Tsukishima had managed to take him down. But then he lifted his face, and Kei realized that he was grinning widely. Kuroo’s eyes shone with something that hadn’t been there, a spark of excitement that Kei for the life of him didn’t know what he’d done to kindle. “Not bad at all, Tsukishima.”

……

If Kei had his way, he wouldn’t have gone to Sugawara for help at all. But that had been part of the agreement with Kuroo -- and probably the part Kei liked the least. Punching Kuroo in his smug face was one thing; learning the intricacies of mental warfare from a man he’d previously made it clear he really wanted nothing to do with was another entirely. However, as Kuroo had put it, “Hitting someone is the easy part. Hand-to-hand combat will hold you up against fighters like Iwaizumi; but Oikawa would rather get into your head and take you down from the inside. If you can’t defend against that, anything else is pointless.”

The terms of the agreement were simple: if Kei wanted to _continue_ punching Kuroo in the face, he must also go to Sugawara and -- utilizing every last ounce of politeness in his body -- appeal to him to teach him the basics of mental defense. Doing so required Kei to swallow his pride -- not an easy task, especially considering Sugawara had witnessed him just the night before at his absolute worst.

Standing in front of Sugawara later that night, head bowed and hands shoved in his pockets, Kei was internally writhing. That did not stop the words from dragging themselves from his lips, all the same: “I need you... to teach me how to protect myself. Would you help me… please?”

The shock on Sugawara’s face would be forever branded into Kei’s ego; but gradually it cleared, like storm clouds parting over crystalline skies, to make way for an almost relieved smile.

“Tsukishima…” Sugawara reached out a hand, taking a second or two to gauge the teen’s reaction before gently gripping his shoulder in a warm gesture. “I'm very glad you came to me.”

Kei forced himself to meet the other’s dark eyes. “So you'll teach me, then?”

Sugawara’s lips curved into a sunny grin. “Of course! Everyone else is beginning to work with their own powers -- why shouldn't I help you train yours?”

“I don't have any powers.”

“Not true.” There was a knowing, almost playful glint in Suga’s eye. “You have your body, and you have your mind. You're clever, Tsukishima -- I'm sure you can figure it out.”

Kei pressed his lips into a thin line, but said nothing more.

……

Around the time Tsukishima found himself on the ground, stones digging into his knees and bare palms pressed furiously against aching temples, it occurred to him that he actually was having a _really_ bad day.

“You're not focusing hard enough, Tsukishima. Remember, the goal is to keep Kageyama out of your head.”

Eyes burning, Kei lifted his chin to stare up at the two Kyuuketsuki defiantly. Sugawara had explained that Kageyama’s powers of “ _direction_ ” would be the best to help build up mental blocks, and he’d gone to the fledgling Kyuuketsuki to ask him to join them. Kei hadn't been happy with the idea then, and now -- with Kageyama himself glowering down at him, something very close to disdain in his dark eyes -- he liked it even less.

“I'm sorry Kageyama finds it so easy to bypass my mental barriers. Obviously, he’s had more _practice_.” He spat this last word in the most disdainful tone he could muster, and felt a spike of joy when Kageyama visibly tensed.

It wasn't as if he wasn't trying -- he _was_ , damn it. But they had only been practicing for ten minutes, and already Kageyama had ordered Tsukishima to his knees three times. Each time, the blond had found his body obeying automatically, even before his mind had time to register the command.

The last time he'd managed to hold out just a bit longer, and that had been the worst; immediately there was a wheedling pressure in his head, as if someone were dipping their fingers into his skull and scooping through his brain matter. Every instinct was at once vulnerable, and he had the sudden sense that if he tried, Kageyama would be able to get his hands on any emotion or memory Kei had ever harbored. It was a horribly violating feeling.

Kageyama wasn't a mind reader; Sugawara had assured him of that. Still, his powers were intrusive in a way that made Kei want to bolt in the other direction. The knowledge that Oikawa was even _worse_ hung heavy over all their heads; if Tsukishima didn't manage to resist now, he would only be putty in the scheming Kyuuketsuki’s hands later.

“Use your own mind. Block him out through force of will,” Sugawara guided gently, his voice severing the tense atmosphere that had grown in between the two teenagers. “Kageyama’s powers are naturally intrusive, but if you try hard enough you can resist them.”

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, skepticism clear on his face. With a sigh, Sugawara nudged the dark haired boy’s arm.

“Kageyama, give me an order.”

“Hop on one foot,” Kageyama replied immediately. Sugawara’s countenance remained calm as he stared back at Kageyama impassively.

“Of course, it's different for me,” continued Suga after a moment; the grin on his face was almost proud of his own defiance. “Those gifted with mental powers naturally have stronger mental blocks, so they're easily immune to the mental magic of others; sometimes they can even exert this influence, like a shield, to guard other people. But anyone can build up their mental defenses strong enough. Daichi doesn't take orders from Kageyama; neither does Shimizu, or even Nishinoya. It's a difficult task, Tsukishima, but I believe you can do it.”

Kei’s lips were pressed into a thin line; but when Sugawara looked up at him he forced himself to nod, ready to try again.

“Get down on your knees,” Kageyama ordered, and Tsukishima felt his body moving before he could process it. Through sheer power of will, he suddenly locked up his joints, forcing his knees to freeze before he could hit the ground. Frozen in a sort of half-crouch, he glared daggers into the center of an unimpressed Kageyama’s forehead.

Immediately, the pressure on his mind returned; Kei squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “Push him out, Tsukishima,” he heard Sugawara urge -- and he was trying, he really was, but it just felt so wrong to have something so foreign inside of his head. He let out a soft grunt as his knees hit the ground hard.

“You're brain is very pliable. It doesn't seem like you're trying very hard,” Kageyama remarked tonelessly, and had Tsukishima been any more stupidly hot-blooded he probably would have punched him outright. This guy was a regular dictator -- literally. As it was, a sickeningly simpering smile found its way to his lips.

“My apologies, your majesty. Invading people's heads is clearly _your_ forte, not mine.”

His words must have struck some sort of chord, because Kageyama immediately took a step forward -- only to be held back by Sugawara.

“No fighting, no fighting! Kageyama, good work. Tsukishima, why don't we take a break for a little while?”

Ignoring the bitter taste of defeat heavy upon his tongue, Tsukishima pulled himself to his feet; he wasn't sorry to watch Kageyama go.

“More practice,” Sugawara muttered, probably trying to sound reassuring. “That's all.”

Somehow, Kei wasn't so sure.

......

It didn't even occur to him until later on that night -- battered, sore, and curled up in bed -- that someone had been missing.

Almost every member of the Karasuno clan had been up and practicing their fighting skills; Tanaka and Nishinoya were doubleteaming against the invisible Ennoshita and his two bat shapeshifting friends; a large bear had been deftly weaving around clumps of training Kyuuketsuki; even little Yachi and Hinata were taking hand-to-hand combat lessons from Kuroo (after they'd spotted him training Tsukishima and declared it to be, "so cool, we have to try too!")

But Yamaguchi had never come out of him room.

Yamaguchi had been nowhere to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter we'll see more training, and someone is going to do something very stupid.
> 
> also, can you tell i ship kurotsukki? i ship kurotsukki very much, but i ship yamatsukki even more. I honestly would ship tsukishima with a brick if i could. i ship him with everyone. e v e r y o n e.


	11. Chapter 11

Kuroo spun, wrenching Tsukishima’s wrist behind his back; but Tsukishima was just a bit quicker, his reflexes sharper than his assailant had been expecting. Whirling around, he twisted his own wrist in Kuroo’s grasp and managed instead to get a good grasp on the front of his shirt. Lunging forward and pressing all his weight against Kuroo’s broad chest, the Kyuuketsuki’s back slammed up against a tree; Kuroo let out a grunt, and his grip loosened just enough for Kei to pull free.

Had it been an actual fight he probably would have tried to slam Kuroo up against the tree again, just to daze him enough so that Kei could make his escape -- or even to knock him out. But this was training, so instead Kei scrambled backwards, trying not to trip over his own feet while at the same time not taking his eyes away from the “threat” in front of him.

That was Kuroo’s golden rule of fighting: never allow yourself to be distracted from your opponent.

Kuroo peeled himself away from the tree; and it was yet another reminder that Kei was not fighting a human when he saw that Kuroo wasn’t the slightest bit winded. The man in front of him was a decades (maybe even centuries) old Kyuuketsuki with more experience in fighting than Kei would probably get in his own mortal lifetime. The only reason Kei even stood a chance against him was because Kuroo was helping him learn -- and doubtlessly taking it easy on him.

Kuroo lifted his head, and Kei started slightly when he realized that the other man’s eyes were entirely pitch black; he barely had time to react before suddenly Kuroo’s veins began to darken, translucent blue rapidly changing color. The black veins wound their way under Kuroo’s pale skin, lining bare arms and creeping up his neck, stretching along his cheeks and forehead. Somehow, with death in his blood, Kuroo’s skin seemed to turn an ashy grey; and as Kei watched, dark bat’s wings groaned and sprouted out from Kuroo’s shoulder blades. If possible, the Kyuuketsuki even seemed to grow taller; his legs lengthened, his arms stretched at his sides, and he stared down at Kei with the look of predator watching prey. From behind him, Kuroo’s towering shadow stood at attention; it was not connected to his feet, instead shifting independently in the pale moonlight as if ready to pounce at its master’s order.

“Are you scared, Tsukki?” Kuroo growled; his voice was ground shards of glass against stone, thick and deep, twisting and oppressing the night’s faint breeze. Kei could feel the sound brush by his ears.

The teen straightened his spine, drawing his shoulders up; he stared up at Kuroo from over the tip of his nose, lips pursed in disdain. “You look,” he said, “like a science experiment gone wrong.”

“You _flatter_ me.”

Kuroo’s shadow moved first, all grace and poise as it lashed out with an expert kick; on instinct, Tsukishima spun away, and nearly managed to lose his balance. Bracing himself against a tree to steady himself, he spared a moment to take a deep breath.

_It’s not real. None of it is real._

When Kuroo lashed out again, one massive wing sweeping towards him and ready to engulf him entirely, Tsukishima didn’t cringe away. As expected, the wing passed right through him; it was made of nothing but air.

“If you expected to faze me, you’ll have to try harder,” he stated bluntly, smirking. “You spin illusions. That's all. Even _you_ can't twist reality.”

Kuroo’s deep chuckle shook the air around them slightly; Tsukishima still hadn’t decided if that, too, was merely an illusion, but it was creepy enough that he didn’t want to take his chances. This time, when Kuroo’s long arm reached out to grab him, he actually dodged; but the beauty of Kuroo’s trick was it’s ability to throw his opponent’s depth perception completely off. Kuroo was closer than Tsukishima had thought; a hand bunched in the collar of his shirt, and suddenly the teen was flung to the ground hard.

Lying on his back with the wind effectively knocked out of his lungs, Kei stared wide eyed as Kuroo descended on him. Wings outstretched, skin crisping like burnt paper, and black blood dripping from his hollow mouth and eyes, he still made a terrifying sight; never mind the fact that it wasn’t real. Involuntarily, Tsukishima’s throat began to constrict out of terror, and he made the mistake of trying to roll out from under Kuroo’s towering figure.

It was an uncalculated move, and he paid the price -- a swift kick caught him the gut. Kei gasped sharply, curling in on himself before going still. Eyes tightly shut, he didn’t see Kuroo’s illusion fizzle away, but he could hear it; the faint smell of something burning, and a slight brush of wind over his cheek before suddenly something was nudging him in the shoulder.

He opened his eyes, and found Kuroo’s hand in his face; taking it, he waited until he had regained both his footing and dignity before brushing his pant legs off. Now reassuringly shorter than him once more, Kuroo’s (blessedly ordinary) face split into a wide grin.

“You’re getting better! Your reflexes have been improving, and your instincts are getting sharper. Plus, you’re not getting distracted anymore. That’s good!”

Tsukishima shrugged, a slight pout still on his lips; he wasn’t satisfied with his own performance. After all, he’d lost.”You play around with those illusions so much that I expect it by now. Plus, I can tell the difference.”

“Kenma says that too. Says I make the air ‘heavier’ when I spin something. They’re always able to tell what’s real and what’s fake.”

Over the past few days of practicing with Kuroo, he’d brought up Kenma more than once; it was obvious that the Kyuuketsuki was extremely attached to his friend. Tsukishima hadn’t spoken to the blond yet himself (Kenma didn’t seem to talk much to anyone, really) but he got the sense that they were sharp -- he supposed it was the way their eyes seemed to pierce right through you. Kenma seemed like the type of person who would pick up on things anyone else would ordinarily miss, just because they didn’t find it important enough to notice; Tsukishima both admired that kind of observational skill and somewhat resented it.

“So.” Kuroo’s hand landed heavily on his shoulder, and Tsukishima automatically cringed before drawing away. The other man cracked a smirk that didn’t look in the least apologetic. “How are your lessons with Sugawara going?”

“Kageyama is a tyrant.”

Kuroo let out a low whistle. “Well, then. I take it that doesn’t mean they’re going _well_. You don’t have to work with the guy if you don’t want to, you know. I’m sure Sugawara wouldn’t mind asking someone else to help you train.”

Tsukishima shrugged, leaning back against a tree and crossing his arms, lazily examining the night sky; out here in the woods, the stars somehow seemed even more visible than they were on the farm. As a child, Kei used to sneak out at night and sit in the meadow separating his house from the woods, staring up at the sky and trying to pick out any constellations; now, the sight of the stars had become so familiar to him that he could almost welcome them like old friends. With everything that had changed, the stars were still safe and reassuring.

_I wonder if Akiteru thinks of me when he looks up at the stars…_

He hadn’t been home in three days. He hadn’t heard a single whisper of news about his brother -- or, for that matter, his parents. He knew that his mother and father had to be frantic with worry. If Akiteru was missing as well, that would be even worse for them; a sharp guilt twisted in Kei’s gut when he recalled the relief in his parents’ eyes after he had returned from the woods the first time. They had been so frightened of losing him…

But all along, was it really Kei they should have been worried about losing? Had Akiteru been slipping away from them all, even then?

Ever since Akiteru had stumbled out of the woods so many years ago, Kei had tried so hard to put distance between himself and his brother; he had been afraid of letting him in, only for Akiteru to hurt him again. The pain of seeing his brother hurt and dying, combined with the betrayal of Akiteru lying to him about what had happened, had combined into a toxic cocktail that had wound up poisoning their relationship and driving a wedge between the two brothers.

The night of his own return, Kei had finally spoken to Akiteru. Akiteru had started to cry, and for the first time in a long time, Kei was able to remember what it felt like to have an older brother he was close to.

And the Akiteru had slipped away from him entirely, and he had let it happen.

What was he fighting for now? Kei didn’t even know why he was staying with Karasuno. Was it to keep himself safe? Was he training himself in the desperate hope that he would not only be able to protect himself, but somehow save his brother’s life as well? Could Akiteru even be saved? Could Kei possibly save himself? What if they both --

“Hey.”

A sharp nudge to his shoulder nearly knocked him over; Tsukishima looked up sharply to find Kuroo gazing at him, expression unreadable in the dusk’s growing shadow.

“You looked pretty lost for a minute. What’s on your mind?”

“Aside from the complete inability to form any sort of mental barrier that can keep annoying mindbenders out?” Caustic words flowed off Tsukishima’s tongue like water; it was easier than actually feeling anything. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Mental defense is tough,” Kuroo conceded, joining Tsukishima in leaning against the tree. There wasn’t enough room; once again, Tsukishima was nearly knocked sideways, and he cast the Kyuuketsuki an irritable glare as he shifted to make space for him. “It’s something you have to work on. If you can just manage something, just a single block, you’ll be a step up from defenseless when Oikawa gets here.”

Oikawa would get here soon. According to the vision that Shimizu -- the dark haired girl with glasses and cool blue eyes, who would often converse with Suga and Daichi in low tones when the rowdier Karasuno members were distracted -- had had the night before, the Aoba Johsai clan were only two days away. That was if Karasuno had luck on their side -- which, Tsukishima was willing to venture, they didn’t. They certainly didn’t have skill on their side either; that much was obvious.

For lack of much better to do when he wasn’t being thoroughly beaten both physically and mentally these past few days, Tsukishima had spent his time watching the rest of Karasuno. If anything had been clear, it was that they lacked fighting experience.

There were some -- like Daichi, the unshakeable leader, or Tanaka, whose brute force was both startling and reassuring -- to whom fighting seemed to come naturally. They clearly had prior experience, and were skilled and confident in their own movements. They moved with a sort of bluntness that left little to the imagination, but pinpointed them as the source of most of Karasuno’s aggressive power. The bear shapeshifter, Azumane, had all the nerve of a flea; he didn’t even like shapeshifting, because apparently his bear form frightened him, but when he allowed the animal’s instincts to take over he became an offensive force to be reckoned with. Nishinoya’s reflexes were unrivalled, and what he obviously lacked in previous fighting experience he made up for in enthusiasm. Ennoshita, the invisible man, was not a skilled fighter but dangerous for his lack of presence alone; Kinoshita and Narita, the bat shapeshifters, could do little in the way of fighting, but they could unexpectedly fly up and get in your face, which could scare the daylights out of anyone. Fighters like Sugawara and Shimizu were impressive; they both looked frail, but they had a fluid style of hand-to-hand combat that suggested a startling amount of strength. Then there was Kageyama himself, obviously a skilled fighter, especially for someone so young; his moves were fluid and certain, a sort of dangerous confidence about him that even Tsukishima wasn’t about to get in the way of. And then the two fledglings, Yachi and Hinata; Kuroo had been teaching them hand-to-hand combat, and even been giving Yachi some tips on controlling her own illusion spinning, but Tsukishima suggested that (despite Hinata’s boundless enthusiasm) the rest of Karasuno would do their best to spare those two the brunt of the fighting.

Kuroo himself was a skilled fighter, probably as good if not better than Daichi; Kenma, Tsukishima had not been able to see, but he would bet they were dangerous in their own right. The powers of Karasuno were defined; they were not weak, by any means. But even after what little he had seen of Oikawa that night, somehow Tsukishima was not at all sure that Karasuno would have the strength to fight and win against Aoba Johsai, should it come to that.

There was, of course, someone missing -- _Yamaguchi_. He was there, in the house; that much was certain. But no one spoke of him around Tsukishima; he never came out of his room to train with the others. It was as if his name had become a taboo in the mansion and among his own clan.

“Yamaguchi is… different,” Sugawara had explained shortly, when Tsukishima had asked after him. “He’s not a fighter. It’s not really my place to say… he’ll tell you when he’s ready, I’m sure.”

But Yamaguchi hadn’t spoken to him. Tsukishima hadn’t even seen him once, not since that night when he had pushed him away.

Once again, it was Kuroo’s voice that shattered his train of thought. “We’re leaving, you know. Tomorrow afternoon, probably. Kenma and I have stayed here for longer than we should have, anyway.”

“And you don’t want to get caught up in a war, should it come down to that,” Tsukishima said, blunt enough to verbalize what Kuroo was reluctant to. He understood. He wished he didn’t; he wished he had it in him to feel bitter, to feel abandoned by Kuroo and Kenma leaving after all they had done for them. He couldn’t.

“You’re becoming a good fighter,” Kuroo said after a long moment of silence, heavy in the air. The night around them both was dark. “You aren’t powerless. Not anymore.”

 _I’m still weak,_ he thought, but he didn’t say it out loud. Instead, he simply sighed, and pulled himself to his feet. At some point, he and Kuroo had both sunk down to sit against the base of the tree, legs spread out in front of them, now, he reached down and offered Kuroo a hand.

“One more time, then,” he said, and the dark haired Kyuuketsuki smirked.

Tsukishima wouldn’t miss Kuroo. He’d miss punching him in the face, probably, but they weren’t friends. He was still about as obnoxious as ever, and just a single word out of his mouth could make Tsukishima want to yank every last strand of messy black bedhead out of his skull. But he _would_ miss the training; he’d miss Kuroo’s effortless understanding of when to actually shut up and let him think, an ability first encounters would have led Tsukishima to believe Kuroo did not possess. But somehow, the Kyuuketsuki seemed to understand that Kei was struggling to cope, and didn’t pry where it really would have been raw for him to deal with.

And Kuroo had believed in him. Tsukishima had no clue why, of course -- he had given him absolutely no cause to believe in him -- but that alone had been something rare.

Twists, kicks, blows; Kuroo and Tsukishima moved in a coordinated tango, each one having grown to predict the other’s movements in a fight. Thanks to Kuroo, Kei could pick up little things about his opponent’s fighting style that anyone with a duller eye might not have noticed, things that helped him anticipate their next move before it was made. Thanks to Kuroo, Kei was growing stronger; and even outlandish illusions didn’t faze him.

Of course, he wasn’t perfect. Kuroo was still trying to pull the rug out from under his feet with tricks; when an orange blur suddenly propelled itself out from a bush, screeching, Kei assumed this was yet another illusion, right up to the point where the blur tackled him and knocked him to the ground.

“Hah!” Hinata crowed, practically glowing with excitement as he perched on Tsukishima’s chest -- quite literally perched, keeping the blond pinned to the ground beneath him. “I got him for you, Kuroo-san!”

“Nice job, Hinata,” Kuroo praised; when Kei’s eyes drifted up towards him, he found the Kyuuketsuki with his arms crossed, an insufferably smug smirk on his face. “Expect the unexpected, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima snarled. “Get- get _off_ me, you overgrown toddler!”

“ _Whaat_? You want to fight? Do ya? Huh?”

_“Get off!”_

……

Making progress in Kuroo’s lessons was one thing; Sugawara’s lessons were quite another.

Apparently Tsukishima stumbling back into the mansion with Hinata literally hanging off his back had given the intrepid Suga some new ideas. For their next lesson, Kageyama’s presence had been swapped out with a very energetic ginger menace. Somehow, Tsukishima liked this idea even less.

“It makes sense!” Suga had exclaimed, more in response to Tsukishima’s utterly offended expression at the sight of Hinata than any actual protest. “Hinata was the one who first got into your head when you got here; he also has the least control over his powers out of all of us. If you can fight back against his influence, that should lay the foundation for defying Kageyama, and Oikawa. It should be easy, Tsukishima.”

“I don’t like him.”

Ignoring Hinata’s offended squawk, Sugawara had pressed on. “Hinata’s powers are hardly even mental abilities -- at his core, he’s an empath, like me. Where I can put people at ease, Hinata’s abilities extend beyond that. He not only senses what people are feeling, but can absorb particularly strong emotions into himself. He can also influence other’s emotions -- that’s what we’ll be working on today. If Hinata can get into your head and make you feel something, that’s his victory. If you can push him out, it’s yours.”

“What is this,” Tsukishima had muttered petulantly, “a contest?”

“You’re both learning. You both have room to improve. Let’s see what you can do.”

That was how Tsukishima found himself in a position had had hoped strongly to never be in, ever again -- allowing Hinata to probe at his head, twisting his emotions to his own control.

As soon as he had felt that strange little tug -- that tug he’d felt before, on something inside of his head, a sensation Kei couldn’t begin to explain -- he tried to push back. But Hinata somehow managed to be even more intrusive than Kageyama; he pushed on, brown eyes narrowed in concentration and locked on the teen in front of him. Kei felt it as his own barrier of annoyance was penetrated; straight through to his emotional core, far inside him wrapped in a shell which he’d have liked to believe was impenetrable. At once, he was struck by a sudden and sharp jab of euphoria.

It felt like a wave sweeping over his head, bringing with it memory -- _stumbling through the meadow, playing catch with Akiteru; trailing at his older brother’s heels on short legs as Akiteru tossed a ball over his shoulder; throwing himself down into the weeds and holding the small ball up in both hands, shrieking, and his brother’s own delighted laughter as he flopped down beside him_ \--

The intrusion drew back at once, and Kei’s eyes shot open to find Hinata grinning.

“Whoa!” The redhead exclaimed. “That was a really strong emotion. You were so happy, Tsukishima--”

At once, he had lunged forward at once, and seized Hinata by the collar of his shirt. The fledgling Kyuuketsuki’s eyes went wide, both with indignation and fear, and he squirmed in the blond’s much stronger grip and Tsukishima snarled in his face. “What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?”

“I -- I didn’t see anything!” Hinata exclaimed frantically. “I just felt it, I didn’t see what the memory was! I promise! Sorry if it was something personal.”

Tsukishima was startled to find his hand trembling slightly where it was locked around Hinata’s collar; slowly, his grip loosened and hand fell away as he drew back from both Kyuuketsuki. He really didn’t want to do this anymore. Not when he had to relive things like that, things so intensely personal --

“If you don’t like it,” came Sugawara’s voice, encouraging but somehow still unyielding, “block him out. Don’t let Hinata in.”

_I can’t. I can’t, I don’t know how, don’t make me --_

Tsukishima swallowed down the taste of bitterness, eyes locking on Hinata and narrowing. It was a challenge -- a dare. _Come and try again. I won’t let you see inside of me._

Hinata hesitated for just a second before pushing forward again; this time Kei could feel Hinata pressing on somewhat uncertainly, as if afraid of what he might find. Perhaps he had reason to be afraid; for the next instant Kei felt a pulse of fear overcome him, and he tried to push Hinata out of his head but it was too late, too sudden…

_His brother was dripping sweat, practically pouring it; he sponged down Akiteru’s forehead and he shuddered, mouth moving soundlessly as if trying hard to form words that would not come; his fingers glanced over Akiteru’s lips along his jaw, before slowly moving to the bandage at his artery; he could feel the breath caressing his own neck, the sharp sensation of nails digging into his shoulder, there but not all at once. He was alone with his brother, but they were not alone --_

“Stop!” He ground out, curling in on himself, and Hinata pulled back abruptly. Kei was vaguely aware of coming back to himself, shaking all over; but he couldn’t help it.

“I don’t want to. I don’t want to do this anymore, _stay out of my head_ \--”

“Tsukishima.” The hand on his shoulder reminded him suddenly of sharp nails, unforgivingly harsh against his fragile skin; but the wave of calm that suddenly pulsed over him was subtle and unintrusive. It dragged him back to reality just enough that he could think straight again; gradually, his shaking began to subside, and it was no longer a monster’s claw resting on his shoulder but Sugawara’s hand.

He could see concern radiating from the man’s dark eyes; if he wanted to stop now, he could. He could stop this, and it would all be over. Hinata would stay out of his head, his emotions could be his own, he would never have to remember what he didn’t want to…

And he would be vulnerable to Oikawa, when he came. And he _was_ coming, very soon, to take him away.

“You don’t want to be helpless,” Kuroo had said. “You’re scared.” And he was right.

Kei had known this before, but in that single moment it had never been clearer to him. The one thing he hated more than anything else in the world was to feel helpless.

“No,” he ground out through clenched teeth, and he pulled away from Sugawara’s hand -- not harshly, but a determined gesture that left little to argue. As he pulled himself up again, drawing his spine straight and trying to salvage what little dignity he had left, his eyes fixed on Hinata in a glare.

He had never seen the normally energetic redhead look so uncomfortable before. He was staring at Tsukishima as if he were something unpredictable, dangerous; an enigma he couldn’t wrap his head around, a large and unknown sleeping animal he was prodding with a stick.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Hinata said, slowly. “Tsukishima, you -- you’re really upset. I can feel it. I don’t like your emotions, either… they’re always either really gold or really red, and they’re hard to get at but they sort of sting a bit, and they taste really bitter, like chewing lemons --”

“I don’t have a clue what you’re saying, or what it means,” Kei replied, glowering as he tried to stop his hands from shaking. “Clearly it's not because I’m less intelligent than you, so you must not be making sense. We’re doing this _now_.”

Hinata hesitated still, gaze swiveling somewhat desperately between Sugawara and Tsukishima; it was a subtle nod from the older Kyuuketsuki that got him moving at last, reluctantly taking a step forward and zeroing in on Tsukishima.

This time, he could feel it. Hinata pushing, pressing against his emotional barriers and searching for a point of entry, a wall he could slip past without knocking it over entirely and causing the whole foundation to topple. He was being cautious, and it gave Kei the opportunity to lock in on the unwanted intrusion in his mind and try to push it out -- try, the same way he’d fight with Kuroo, hone in on the enemy and not let it out of your sight. But it was difficult when he could _see_ Hinata in front of him, yet the intrusion in his head was something different entirely. He couldn’t push Hinata out because he couldn’t get a grip on him. And Hinata pressed further --

He found a crack in the wall, and Tsukishima let out a slight gasp as a warm feeling suddenly spread through his body. It was peaceful, safe, laden with the rush of adrenaline speeding his heart rate and the sensation of another body very close to his own --

_Yamaguchi stared up at him, eyes wide; his back pressed against the cool window pane, and Kei’s own hands rested on the backs of his shoulders, holding him -- if possible -- even closer. His heart beat a frantic rhythm, making his palms slick and breathing come just a bit too fast; they were so close, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this close to someone, and the way Yamaguchi stared at him with wide, dark eyes left him breathless --_

_**No**._

In the same way that Kuroo’s taunts had intensified Kei’s physical attacks, he now retaliated against Hinata’s intrusion with a sharp mental shove, closing off the memory as if slamming a door in the other’s face. Not that one; Hinata didn’t get to open up memories of Yamaguchi, not something so personal and _thiers_ that it belonged to no one but them.

Hinata looked stunned, a slight furrow in his brow as he pushed once again against the wall Kei had built up; but he wasn’t letting the Kyuuketsuki back in, Somewhat encouraged, he pressed back further, imagining himself slowly pressing Hinata into a corner, with the only other escape being a wide open doorway. _Get **out**. You aren’t welcome in my head. Stay out of my memories._

And then, suddenly, the pressure in his brain alleviated; his head felt a hundred pounds lighter. Hinata was staring at him in open astonishment.

“You… kicked me out.”

Was that what he had done? Kei actually had a headache now, sharp and aching at the back of his skull, but it wasn’t intrusive like Hinata’s presence had been; indeed, there was something victorious about having reclaimed his brain back for himself. 

“I did,” he affirmed, eyes glinting coolly. “And I can do it again.”

……

“Tsukishima, this is a bad idea.”

“I agree. But Karasuno needs this. You said it yourself, Oikawa is stronger than you. He might be able to take down the entire clan by himself; with his own clan by his side, you can all fight, but you’ll probably lose.”

“It’s dangerous. We don’t know what will happen.”

“We need to try. Oikawa was the one who started this.”

“I know… but…”

“After all, it isn’t like no one here has drank my blood before.”

……

The coolness of the glass shot up through his palms, chilling the sensitive pads of his skin. Winter was descending harsh upon the woods; the farmlands would probably struggle for the next few months. Animals would have a hard time finding food; they might be driven closer to the edge of the woods, starvation making them reckless. It would be difficult for the clan to get their meals, as well; in the winter, people tended to stay inside more, and were more hesitant about venturing close to the forest at night.

Already, a dull ache of hunger had settled in his gut; when he closed his eyes, he could at times taste sweet blood running hot over his lips, coating his tongue and soothing his dry throat. Water helped keep the hunger at bay; but it was never the same. He, like the rest of his clan, was used to going longer periods without food -- Karasuno, he often thought with pride, was merciful. Yet the hunger still gnawed.

His eyes studied the ground far below him; in the uppermost level of the mansion, nestled up near the attic, he knew that he was invisible to those below. Yet he could still study them; sharp eyes picked up on the most minute movements, tracking and observing them as they fought and trained alongside one another. Like a family.

He wasn’t like them. He’d accepted it a long time ago. That didn’t keep it from stinging when he watched colorful sparks fly from Yachi’s fingertips and swirl in the air around her, or when Tanaka lifted an entire tree trunk with his bare hands. He did not know that feeling, power surging through his veins; he never would. He was not like them, and he’d come to accept it.

His eyes landed on the lanky figure dodging around a tree to avoid a swift series of blows from Kuroo’s fists. Tsukishima was becoming a better fighter day by day. He was growing into himself; even in the short amount of time, his progress had been remarkable. He was so proud of his friend that he couldn’t keep the smile off his face at times when he watched him…

And then the ache would settle in his chest; different from hunger, raw, gnawing and utterly unforgiving. He would tear his eyes away and curl in on himself. Time alone was time to reflect on just how much he’d managed to ruin; and just how useless he was to the people he cared about.

Tsukishima was right. This was his fault. And when his entire clan stepped up to fight, to train and hone their skills in order to keep their family safe _(to keep Tsukishima safe)_ he couldn’t even fight alongside them.

No one bothered him, and maybe that was the worst part; they knew that it was his fault. They had accepted that he would bow out of fighting, seal himself away, because they didn’t expect any more from him. He had always been a coward; even from the day he’d been found in the woods, tearing into a deer with his bare hands and greedily sucking up every drop of blood that he could. He had been lucky that they had taken him in; but he didn’t deserve it. He had never deserved their kindness, especially not now; not when his own foolishness had brought a storm down over their heads.

“You should come down.”

It was Ennoshita’s voice behind him; he knew, though, that if he turned around there would be no one in sight. He was used to it by now; he and the older Kyuuketsuki weren’t close, but they had become better friends since Yamaguchi had set up camp in what was commonly known as “Ennoshita’s Attic” and fallen into a state of emotional stagnation that left him unwilling to even go downstairs. He wouldn’t be surprised if Ennoshita was just trying to get rid of him at this point.

“Suga’s worried about you, Tadashi. Everyone is. You don’t have to isolate yourself.”

He didn’t reply.

“It wasn’t your fault. None of this is. You should know that.”

His nails dug sharp half-moons into his skin, leaving imprints; yet he knew he’d have to press much deeper if he wanted to draw blood. He could still bleed, even though he was technically dead; but drawing Kyuuketsuki blood was a much harder task than simply tearing human flesh.

“I hope you’ll come down soon. Sugawara wants to talk to you. It isn’t healthy… sitting by that window all day? Have you even slept?”

He had; he’d dozed sometimes, during the day. Kinoshita snored. At first it had been annoying, but eventually he’d become used to the sound. Yet for the most part he had remained wide awake both day and night; watching and waiting. When Oikawa came, he wanted to be ready.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything. But that didn’t change the fact that he needed to try.

From behind him, he heard of soft sigh; Ennoshita had given up. “Come down soon,” his quiet voice urged, and the measured rhythm of footsteps on the stairs told Tadashi that he was alone again.

He leaned forwards, resting his chin on his palm; it was still cool from the glass, sending shocks of cold shooting through his skin. The sensation was new, and a relief from the monotony of stuffy attic air.

In his other hand, he clasped a small firefly charm tightly. No matter how hard anyone tried to separate him from it, that was one thing he would not give up.

…..

Kuroo and Kenma departed when morning began to dawn near. They left in a subdued flurry of goodbyes, back-clapping and hugs. Tsukishima grimaced and twisted away when Kuroo ruffled his hair; but when the Kyuuketsuki caught his eyes, there was an odd sincerity to his expression that surprised Kei.

“Be careful,” he urged, and this was as good as any well wish. Kei nodded, once, and then Kuroo stepped back.

After they had left, the tension among the group was palpable; it was as if they could feel the presence of Aoba Johsai closing in on them, a fox circling a house of hens. Many people didn’t want to go to sleep; on Daichi’s orders, they did so anyway. Tsukishima by that point had already adopted a semi-nocturnal sleep schedule, but when he laid his head down on his pillow early that morning he found that sleep was unwilling to come gently to him. He wasn’t surprised.

Venturing down the stairs, he was careful to keep his footsteps light; the last thing he wanted was to disturb anyone else who might be struggling. The sound of snoring echoing from one of the second floor rooms told him that at least a few people had been luckier in sleep than him.

When he reached the kitchen, he had expected to find Sugawara waiting up; he was surprised to find Daichi, instead, sitting at the counter. On top of the counter, a very unconscious Sugawara was sprawled out like a dead man; one of Daichi’s fingers wound lazily through the other’s fine hair, as he stared into a mug of something that Tsukishima considered might have been coffee. Did caffeine have any effect on Kyuuketsuki?

“I figured you wouldn’t sleep,” Daichi remarked, sounding almost amused. “I guess it can’t be helped. You really should... but no one can make you. Well, we could have Kageyama order you to, but that would require waking him up, which is next to impossible -- plus, I guess you can fight against that now, huh?”

Not really, but he was learning -- slowly. He nodded anyway. “Sugawara mentioned a library once.”

“Down the hall -- last door, with the big brass doorknob. It’s easy to find.” Daichi sounded tired; Tsukishima paused for a moment, examining the other man’s face. There were dark rings around his eyes; a light brush of stubble dusted his cheeks, like he hadn’t bothered to shave just yet, and his hair was mussed charmingly in a way that looked almost intentional. Daichi didn’t look very old, probably not even older than Sugawara; but the look in his eyes abruptly reminded Tsukishima that the Kyuuketsuki had to have been alive long before he was even born. Sugawara had mentioned being at least fifty years old; surely Daichi was even older. Studying him now, Tsukishima might have realistically guessed that he had been around for a few centuries.

He wanted to say something; an apology, maybe, or even a word of thanks. However, his tongue seemed to stall when he tried to open his mouth; he tried a moment before letting out a heavy sigh, giving up. He’d never been very good with words anyway.

However, Daichi turned to look at him then; and when their eyes met, Tsukishima realized that he knew what he was trying to say. Not through any sort of mind reading, or obnoxious mental ability; Daichi understood him because he knew what it felt like to be human.

There was a flash of regret in his eyes then; something like sympathy. Tsukishima turned his eyes away, and strode out of the room without looking back. That sympathetic expression got under his skin, and his head was beginning to pound; his eyelids were starting to feel heavy as well. Maybe he really was tired.

……

_Kei? Kei._

_… Akiteru?_

_Kei._

_Onii-chan._

_Come home, Kei. I’m waiting for you._

…..

He lifted his head again, the annoying persistence of sleep muddling his head and clinging to his eyes. Daylight shone faintly through the window, stinging his skin slightly as it falls upon him; he glanced out, surveying the trees for the hundredth time while not really expecting to see anything.

Movement caught his eye, in a split second’s time. A lanky figure was slipping through the shadows, moving fast and not looking back.

Tadashi ran.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I suck! Also, I've kind of... lost confidence in this story. I do this with every multichapter I write, so I'm not surprised, but I'm dead serious when I promise that I will finish this story. So, after two entire months... here's the next chapter!
> 
> Also, Iwaoi is finally coming into the picture. I promised Iwaoi, you will get Iwaoi, and I'm going to scream.

Iwaizumi Hajime needed approximately three things; a week-long nap, a stiff drink, and a long vacation from Oikawa Tooru.

Objectively -- and this depended on how you defined the word “vacation” -- Hajime had been on vacation from Oikawa for a long time. One hundred and twelve years to be exact; and aside from that one very awkward moment on a street in Sendai, Hajime had spent one hundred and twelve years blissfully Oikawa-free.

However, if you asked Hajime, this didn’t count. A vacation from someone is supposed to mean you can put them out of your head; and if there was anything Hajime had learned in the past century, it was that Oikawa Tooru was almost impossible to escape. Sure, he could run away from him, he could demand not to be followed, he could threaten restraining orders (a rather magnificent invention of the twentieth century); but Oikawa Tooru, in word if not in person, was everywhere at once.

It hadn’t taken Oikawa long to become somewhat of a legend among more gossip-inclined Kyuuketsuki. A handsome, captivating, powerful fledgling who had rose from seemingly nowhere to lead Kitagawa Daiichi, a renowned travelling clan infamous for its village raids; and then, when higher things had called to him, founded his own clan and quickly rose in the ranks to become one of the most feared in the Miyagi prefecture. Oikawa was the stuff of legend, spun from the same fine silk as Ushiwaka and Karasuno’s legendary Ukai.

He was also the number one person on earth whom Hajime wanted absolutely _nothing_ to do with. And he was inescapable.

That didn’t mean Hajime wasn’t trying his best. He had left Miyagi; he had considered leaving Japan altogether, but a century hadn’t improved his foreign language skills in the slightest. Still, it seemed that the figure of Oikawa Tooru hung over him like a heavy shadow, an omnipresent cloud on even the brightest days. Somehow, Hajime couldn’t even be surprised; Tooru had never given up easily, even back when they were both still alive.

But that was a long time ago. Hajime was a different person now than the rash boy, the incensed fledgling that he had been. He was older now, stronger, smarter.

So was Oikawa.

The latest news, Hajime learned, eavesdropping surreptitiously on a pair of Kyuuketsuki perched a few barstools down from him in the rundown pub, was that Aoba Johsai (Oikawa’s new clan, his masterpiece) was going to attack Karasuno. Once upon a time, Karasuno had been one of the great clans of Japan, and had practically run the Kyuuketsuki underworld. Now they had long since fallen from power, just as swiftly as Oikawa was rising up to take it.

 _It’s all only ever been a chess game_ , Hajime thought. Oikawa was finally making his move.

And Hajime’s own ear for gossip gave him a front row seat. Perhaps he was lucky. People didn't talk about him, ever.

He stirred his drink idly, only half-listening as the two Kyuuketsuki gossiped over inane and substanceless details. Oikawa’s name was scattered throughout their conversation in hushed tones, as if uttering the very word itself could summon the “Grand King” (of all the ridiculous titles, Hajime had to fight the urge to snort into his drink). Suddenly, a shift in topic drew his full attention to the two chatterers.

“They say he’s after one of _them_ , you know. A Golden Child.”

“What? You don’t actually believe that, do you? They don’t really exist. Everyone says so -- and even if they did, how would _Karasuno_ have one?”

“The last village was raided just a few months ago. Wolves, people called it, but everyone know it was Kitagawa Daiichi. They've got to be working for someone. Maybe it’s Oikawa? Or Shiratorizawa?”

“Why would Oikawa be targeting Karasuno for a Golden Child?”

“They have one. He wants it. Simple as that. They say they can make your powers _stronger_ \--”

Hajime had heard more than enough.

He waited for the two Kyuuketsuki to pay for their drinks and walk out of the pub; he slid his own fare across the bar counter, rose, and followed them outside. Their scent had faded slightly on the wind, but it was easy to track them around the side of the building. They were headed down a back alley; Hajime followed along in their trail until he came upon them.

The first Kyuuketsuki, the one who believed in the Golden Children, fell with an ashwood knife to the back. The second put up a bit of a fight; but Hajime was stronger. He was always stronger.

With a harsh tug, his blade came loose from the dead Kyuuketsuki’s ribcage, and he allowed the body to slump to the ground at his feet. Maybe it was just him, but work was getting harder and harder to find around these parts, and less rewarding.

He could still taste the alcohol buzzing on his tongue, sharp tang lingering long after he’d drained his glass; he wished he could say it had an effect on him. After so many years, every drink tasted like dishwater, every bite of food was like chewing cardboard. He would give anything for some real substance --

Well. _Almost_ anything.

What he needed, he sighed as he slipped into the shadow of the night and away from the two bodies crumbling to ash on the breeze, was a good stiff drink.

And a very long vacation from Oikawa Tooru.

However, as usual, Hajime seemed to be out of luck. Because if he knew three things for certain, it was this -- he would never escape Oikawa; he would never become like him; and he could _never_ allow Oikawa to get his hands on a Golden Child.

……

By the time Daichi reached the front door, it had already been tossed open; a harsh wind roared into the foyer, chilling the house in the same way it unsettled the forest around them. Yamaguchi was already booking it past the treeline, and he didn’t stop when Daichi’s voice called after him.

“It’s Tsukishima!” He shouted over his shoulder, Daichi tearing after him before he’d even gotten the human’s name past his lips. He could hear Suga behind him, freshly awoken and stumbling a bit over his own feet, but alarmed into wide-eyed consciousness by the realization that they had just _lost their human_.

Suga sometimes talked about wanting kids. It wasn’t an option for two men, Kyuuketsuki or not; but there was always adoption. Daichi consistently replied that looking after the clan was more than enough, thank you; but it didn’t really speak well of their parenting skills when they managed to lose a teenage boy in under a week. They had been watching ( _guarding_ , more like; Daichi was under no illusion that Tsukishima would gladly have taken off the second he had a better option, and was only sticking around because he was stuck with them for the time being) Tsukishima for barely four days. That wasn't even a hundred hours. And they had _lost him_.

Daichi was faster than both of the younger vampires, but Yamaguchi was motivated by pure panic; as fast as Daichi ran, Yamaguchi was ahead of him. Either Tsukishima had taken invisibility lessons from Ennoshita or he was just abnormally good at slipping away, because Daichi couldn’t even see him; the scent of human was heavy in the air, but then again, Daichi’s sense of smell had been conditioned to it by the amount of time spent around Tsukishima. When Yamaguchi’s steps faltered, Daichi knew they were in trouble.

“I can’t…” The younger Kyuuketsuki’s chest was heaving, breath coming in frantic, labored spurts. “I can’t have lost him…”

“What _happened_?” Daichi hissed, Suga coming to a halt behind him. He had been on guard, and he knew for a fact that he hadn’t detected Oikawa anywhere near the mansion. Seijoh was getting closer, but they weren't here yet.

Yamaguchi looked just as helpless as he did. “I saw him… he left the house, he was running… I couldn’t catch him, _dammit_ , where’d he go…”

“It’s Oikawa. He’s expanded the range of his power; he’s got to be calling Tsukishima to him somehow, luring him out. We should have known he wouldn’t attack outright.” As all eyes turned to him, Suga continued. “He’s got to be somewhere around here. If he’s got that teleporter with him, they’re probably masking both their scents. He could be anywhere.”

Daichi swore again, and Yamaguchi’s face turned a worrying shade of grey.

**_“TSUKISHIMA!”_ **

The younger boy’s cry seemed to startle everyone, not excluding him; the noise echoed throughout the woods, hollow and unanswered. Dark eyes clouded with worry, Sugawara tried to lay a hand on his arm, but Yamaguchi suddenly jerked away.

“He’s there! I smell him this way!”

Daichi could smell Tsukishima everywhere, but he put his faith in the younger boy’s sharper senses; Yamaguchi took off, and the two elder Kyuuketsuki followed him.

The air was heavy with an oncoming storm. The forest around them felt charged electricity as the three Kyuuketsuki tore through the woods. Daichi’s powerful legs deftly vaulted fallen trees and dodged brambles as he ran in pursuit of a phantom human. Tsukishima seemed one step ahead at every turn - but Yamaguchi wasn't faltering.

The scent of the boy was growing stronger the faster they ran. It wasn't long until it felt almost overpowering in its closeness; Tsukishima was present, near them, all around them. They had to be at least on top of him now --

And then, suddenly, a blond head of hair appeared in between the trees. Yamaguchi jerked to a stop, the elders behind him hastily following.

But Tsukishima wasn't alone. Facing him was a tall figure, half-concealed by the shadows of the trees. His entire presence seeming to radiate an air of danger. Slender fingers slowly dragged themselves through the tangles of his hair, skin glowing almost translucent in the moonlight. Once their grip was secure on the back of the teen’s head, they tightened possessively.

They had found Tsukishima. But Oikawa had found him first.

The brunet Kyuuketsuki’s head swiveled as Yamaguchi let out a hoarse yell. Annoyance flashed in his eyes for a split second, his face twisting into a furious something between a grimace and a sneer. His composure was recovered just as quickly. Mouth quirking, Oikawa regarded them before pulling the human close to his chest, tossing his head nonchalantly. The new arrivals were dismissed as if they were nothing more than a group of buzzing flies.

“Could you not bother us right now? We're busy here.”

The snarl tore from Yamaguchi’s throat with such a fierceness that Daichi almost wouldn’t have recognized it as belonging to his timid young clanmate. “Give him back!”

Oikawa’s eyes locked on Yamaguchi, and something cruel flickered in them. His grip tightened, sharp nails digging deep into the fragile skin of Tsukishima’s collarbone. Even in his dazed state, the blond teen squirmed at the pain, and Daichi didn’t miss the way Yamaguchi’s spine tensed.

“Don’t be a fool, Yamaguchi-kun. Had it not been for _you_ , I wouldn’t even have to go through all this trouble to claim Kei-chan for myself. I think you’ve done more than enough.”

Daichi let out a low growl. He could feel the tension radiating off of Suga in waves, a complete deviation from his usual calm. At Oikawa’s words, Yamaguchi had frozen up, eyes wide and uncomprehending. Seeing such an expression on the teen’s face made a caustic anger stir inside of Daichi; all he wanted in that moment was to wrench Tsukishima from the wicked Kyuuketsuki’s arms and punch Oikawa into the next century.

“You're wrong.” Yamaguchi’s voice was low, coming from the back of his throat. “You're _wrong_. All you ever wanted was to hurt him.”

“Don't look at me like I'm some sort of monster, Yamaguchi-kun. I couldn’t care less about Kei. The only thing I want from him is his blood.”

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, another figure emerged from thin air besides Oikawa; a short Kyuuketsuki with penetrating gray eyes. The air around him crackled with a tangible energy, giving him a sort of impresence that made him very easy to miss; this, Daichi realized suddenly, was the teleporter.

Oikawa’s face split into a wide grin at the sight of his clanmate. “Ahh! Watacchi, I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me!” Taking a step closer to the short man, he dragged Tsukishima along with him. His arm tightened around his torso, and Daichi caught a whiff of tantalizing iron in the air as Oikawa’s sharp nails drew blood from the human’s collarbone.

The Kyuuketsuki turned his smile on the Karasuno members, eyes shining in the darkness. Tsukishima, slumped in his arms, made no moves to resist as Watari found a grip on Oikawa’s bicep. “This has been fun -- actually, no, it hasn't. Honestly this has all been quite an annoyance, so I can't say I'm sorry that we’ll be leaving now. Thanks for taking such good care of Kei-chan for me… _all_ of you.”

There was only one person close enough to react. Yamaguchi let out a yell as he lunged forward, hand catching around Tsukishima’s wrist not a second too late.

There was a short crackle of electricity; the air, for an instant, seemed to buzz around them. In the next second Oikawa had vanished, taking with him Watari, Tsukishima, and Yamaguchi.

Daichi charged forward a second too late. His arms swiped at empty air, and he let out an incoherent roar at the realization that he’d just let a member of his own clan be stolen right out from under his thumb. What sort of leader was he? Losing Tsukishima was bad enough, but Yamaguchi was so _young_ , and he was his responsibility --

Daichi spit out a curse and swung his fist at a hapless tree, battering it. Shards of bark flew around him; the destruction was satisfying. He was aware of Suga watching silently from behind him, but that didn’t stop him from swinging at the tree a second time, and a third. Not until he felt a gentle hand come to rest on his shoulder did he cease his flurry of attack. Immediately his posture relaxed, calm seeming to flow into him from the other Kyuuketsuki like water filling an empty glass. His fists stilled and dropped to his sides, knuckles utterly unharmed. In front of him, the tree appeared decimated, wood crumbling off in chunks.

“We have other problems,” Suga breathed into his ear, voice charged with urgency. A sense of dread settled deep in the pit of his stomach. Daichi turned around.

Staring out at them from the darkness, two sets of shining lights -- one electric blue, one burning red -- froze both Kyuuketsuki in their tracks.

Suga’s grip on Daichi’s bicep tightened slightly, his expression hard. Daichi squared his shoulders as low laughter began to fill the night air around them.

Seijoh had finally arrived.

……

Darkness clung to him so thickly that for a long while Kei wasn't sure if he was awake at all. Drifting in a sort of half-sleep, his senses returned to him slowly; first, a sour taste on his tongue, mouth and throat dry, with a hint of copper lingering as if at some point he'd bitten his own lips. The air was heavy and warm, oppressive in a way that this time of winter was unfamiliar with. Opening his eyes and tentatively glancing around, Kei realized what little difference this made -- there was no light at all, anywhere.

He was pressed up against something solid, and on his other side he could feel his shoulder digging into what he was sure was stone. His neck was stiff; it groaned as he turned his head, one hand slowly moving up to brush against a solid wall of rock in the darkness. Frowning, he followed the stone up as high as it would go; only after ascerning that the ceiling was high enough did Kei tentatively attempt to sit up. In doing so, he brushed against the other solid object again, and his hand caught against something cold.

He managed not to scream, but a strangled noise might have escaped him all the same. It was another _hand_ caught on his; he was lying next to a body.

Instantly the reality of the situation hit him with the force of a truck. As panic began to cloud the edges of his mind, it dawned on Kei that he was trapped in what seemed like some sort of cave, in pitch darkness, lying next to a body, and with no clue how he'd gotten there.

His last memory was of wandering the halls of Karasuno mansion in search of the library, gradually beginning to feel sleepier and sleepier. Following that, _blackness_.

The only thing he knew for sure was that he had to get out of here. Panicking wouldn't help anyone; forcibly, he pushed the instinct back, smothering the fear in his mind under as much logical thought as he could manage. He was in the dark, he _seemed_ to be alone (aside from the body), and it wasn't hard to conceive what had happened -- if Oikawa had managed to surprise him, all the mental training in the world wouldn't have been able to help Kei fight back.

Cautiously his hands wandered, following the stone wall as it curved around them. He struck on something that might have been an entrance, maybe, had it not been blocked up by stone itself; but other than that, he found that he was in a rocky cavern, about large enough to fit three adults if they were willing to press together. The ceiling was low enough that he could not stand. As far as he could tell, there was no way out.

Next, he turned his attention on the body next to him. At first he shuddered to touch it, especially since he could tell that it wasn’t breathing. Gradually, however, fear turned to confusion as he ran his hands through messy hair, brushing his hands over waxy skin. For lack of his own sight, Kei leaned down over the body and inhaled deeply; the scent was both starkly familiar and comforting.

That didn't change the fact that the person he now knew to be Yamaguchi was totally unresponsive, and they were trapped in a freaking cavern.

“Yamaguchi…” He shook the limp boy’s shoulder forcefully, desperate to ignore the mounting fear beginning to fill his chest. He was disoriented, trapped in the dark, and next to him his friend _wasn't moving_. He couldn't remember the last time he had ever felt so out of control and _afraid_.

“Wake up, _Yamaguchi_ …”

In his arms, the Kyuuketsuki stirred slightly; a moan escaped from barely parted lips. Kei felt the inexplicable urge to cry.

“Tsu… kki?”

“What the hell,” was all Kei said out loud, settling back against the cave wall now that he knew Yamaguchi wasn't dead and hopefully not dying. Usually he was more eloquent; but he really couldn't think of a better thing to say. He wished he knew how he had gotten from wandering the halls of the Karasuno mansion to trapped in a pitch black cave, but the fact was he didn't remember. “What the hell happened?”

“You don't… you don't know?” Yamaguchi’s mouth moved slowly, words halting as if he were still struggling to find his mental bearings. Kei’s glasses were gone, and the cave was too dark for him to be able to see anything anyway, but he would guess that Yamaguchi probably had that same dumbstruck look on his face he always had when just waking up. Kei had often thought that look was ridiculous; maybe he'd liked it more than he'd thought, for he found himself desperate now to catch even a glimpse of it again.

“If I remembered, would I be wasting my time asking you? No, I’d be trying to get out of this damn cave.”

“Are we… in a cave?”

“I… think so. I can’t see, but I can feel the rock all around. I think we’re trapped in here -- I can't find an exit, if there is one.” He had the fleeting thought that it would be a very bad thing for both of them if Yamaguchi turned out to be claustrophobic.

“Oikawa must have left us here…” The boy’s voice drifted lazily, slurring with each word. He sounded as if he were fighting sleep. Kei wasn’t sure what alarmed him more - the mention of Oikawa or Yamaguchi’s odd behavior. Even when he was really tired, Yamaguchi wasn’t normally so out of it.

“What happened to you, Yamaguchi? Did you hit your head? Are you alright?” If Oikawa had hurt Yamaguchi, Tsukishima would kill him himself.

Had Oikawa stolen him right out from under the Karasuno clan’s noses?

“I think I… I grabbed on to you, right? When we teleported… I don’t think I was supposed to do that, cause the teleporter was holding on to Oikawa and he was holding on to you, but I was just holding on to... your wrist. It… it hurt a bit. I don’t feel that great now.”

Kei’s brow was furrowed so deeply that he could feel a headache growing in his temples. His hand searched until it located Yamaguchi’s in the darkness, and he squeezed tight. To his relief, the other boy squeezed back.

“Oikawa lured you out of the house. Daichi, Suga, and I all ran after you, but we couldn’t get to you before he did… he stole you. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to save you, Tsukki.”

 _Sorry?_ The word echoed, a dull cacophony reverberating in his head. Yamaguchi was apologizing to him - for what? For everything that had happened? For not being able to save him now?

Yamaguchi thought Kei was angry with him. The realization settled like a stone in his chest. Of course he did -- during their last real conversation, Kei had cursed Yamaguchi for ever looking at him and ordered him to never bother him again. Why wouldn't he think Kei absolutely hated him?

But he wasn't angry at Yamaguchi. He never had been. He had lashed out because he had been scared, and still was -- he was so unbelievably terrified of the idea of losing his brother, losing his family, and losing himself. The notion of dragging someone else down with him was absolutely unbearable. And he knew that if anyone would wind up destroyed alongside him, Yamaguchi was just loyal enough and just stupid enough. And he couldn’t deal with that, too.

He had never been angry at him. He was just so, so scared.

Kei exhaled slowly through his nose. The sound was louder than he'd thought it would be in the silence of the cavern. He could feel the chewed down stubs of Yamaguchi’s nails pressing into his palm, and he knew that the other boy was just as frightened as he was.

“We need to get out of here,” he said at last, voice low. “Don't waste time being sorry.”

“But if there's no exit--”

“We had to have gotten in here somehow. Oikawa has to plan to get us out again. There has to be a way out. Can't you… use whatever power you have to do something? Even if you've got a mind power, surely it can't be totally usel--”

“Stop.”

Tsukishima had been scrabbling at the wall with his hands, trying to locate a spot of give that would provide them with a way out. At the harshness of Yamaguchi’s tone, he fell still again, head slowly turning to seek out the boy in the darkness.

Yamaguchi had never told him what his power was.

“Yamaguchi,” Kei said, “you don’t have a power, do you?”

For a tense moment, Yamaguchi said nothing. Next to him, Kei could hear the boy shifting, limbs dragging heavily against their stone prison, but he didn’t speak until finally, a quiet utterance broke the silence that had fallen in the darkness: “No.”

“But all the others--”

“That's the _thing_ , Tsukki. I'm not like the others. I've never had my own power. I'm different, and I don't know why. I can't fight, I can't stand up for myself… all I ever do is cause problems and hurt other people and I can't even help clean up the mess afterwards. I'm useless. That's why I stayed away.”

For a long moment, Kei was silent.

It made sense, he thought; everything he's wanted to know about Yamaguchi, all the questions he'd skirted around about his own powers, the way he gushed over the abilities of others… Yamaguchi had latched onto him because he'd felt like an outcast, even among his own clan. He never had a power of his own, so he was different. This abnormality of his own make rendered him unable to fit in with others of his kind; and he would live forever alienated from humans. What had Kei even been to him? An interesting toy? A chance at friendship? Someone to be fascinated by?

He had been a _friend_.

“You're stupid,” Kei finally said, and he meant it. “You're an idiot, Yamaguchi.”

This had not been the response he'd expected. Yamaguchi went very still.

“What.”

“You're stupid,” Kei said again.

“I -- oh? I mean… I _don't_ … I'm sorry you…” Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. “ _Tsukki!_ This is _not_ the appropriate response to someone pouring their heart out to you!”

Kei’s social skills were woefully lacking, but in this situation he was pretty sure he was in the right. He shrugged (or at least tried to -- the cave didn’t allow much free movement), shoulders brushing up against Yamaguchi’s with the action. After a short moment’s pause, he heard something that sounded alarmingly like ragged breathing coming from the boy beside him, and his entire body tensed.

“Y- Yamaguchi?” He could not do this right now. He could not deal with someone crying, again. In his current emotional state he would probably start crying too, and he was absolutely not dealing with that --

“Oh my gosh,” Yamaguchi gasped out, and only then did it dawn on Kei that he was laughing. “I missed you… a lot.”

Kei wrinkled his nose, uncomprehending. “How can you say that?”

“Because -- it’s true. And I’m selfish. I know. I’m so, so sorry… there aren’t enough words, I don’t know enough to tell you how much I wish none of this had ever happened to you, but I can’t even regret it. I got to meet you.”

Kei could feel his heart beating hard in his chest, a staccato rhythm that reverberated through him with Yamaguchi’s every word. “Why?” he barely managed. “Why do you… care so much about me?” _Why did you ever?_

Yamaguchi fell silent for a moment; his voice, when it came again, was soft. “I… I guess I just wanted to remember what it felt like to be alive. I wanted to feel something warm again, without… killing them. I wanted to be alive. And I thought… I saw you and thought…”

Yamaguchi had been lonely. He had been so desperate to remember what it was like to belong to the world of the living that he’d found a human who intrigued him and automatically latched onto him. He’d managed to squirm his way into Kei’s life in his own unique way, and the worst part was Kei found that he didn't even regret it. Before Yamaguchi life had seemed so simple; school, work, family. After Yamaguchi, things had changed.

“After Sugawara fought off Oikawa and brought me back, you weren’t there. I was sure I’d pushed you away.” Kei tilted his head, unable to hide the tiny smile spreading across his lips in the dark. “You’re too stubborn.”

“I know.” Yamaguchi giggled again, pressing his laughter into his hands, and this time he sounded almost teary. “I’m happy, too. I’m really glad… so glad…”

As his words trailed off, Kei’s almost-content expression slipped from his face; in spite of the darkness allowing him to make out nothing, he still turned towards the other boy. “What is it?”

“You said… Sugawara fought off Oikawa? But that isn’t… he _couldn’t_ have…”

All at once, it seemed as if the stone above their heads shifted. Kei, eyes widening in panic, immediately cringed close to Yamaguchi and covered both their heads. Instead of the earthquake he’d been expecting, however, the sounds of scrabbling and rock grinding against rock break way into a beam of light that suddenly seems too bright for Kei’s desensitized eyes.

It was too bright -- it was _far_ too bright, and without his glasses it took him a moment to realize that it wasn’t daylight at all, but _Oikawa’s eyes_ gleaming fluorescent in the moon’s glow. The sheen in his gaze was inhuman, almost unnatural. The heavy sense of danger that lay just under the the deceptive shine had Kei automatically jamming his eyes shut, suddenly fearful for the security of his own mind. Before he could move, however, a strong hand had suddenly caught the front of his shirt. He found himself hauled up and out of the ground with hardly any effort.

“I told you I wouldn’t be long, Kei-chan.”

Kei squirmed desperately, uselessly. His eyes refused to open, sheer terror gluing them shut, but he could feel the sharp tips of Oikawa’s nails digging into the skin near his neck.

“Tsukki!” He could hear Yamaguchi behind him, and the sound of crumbling rock and dirt told him that the other boy was probably scrambling out of the ground after him. “Let him go!”

Oikawa’s grip tightened. “You really don’t give up, do you, he asked, voice low and dangerous. Kei felt a jolt of icy fear shoot straight through his stomach.

Yamaguchi’s voice trembled on his next words. “I -- I won’t let you hurt him.”

Kei dared to open a single eye, and realized at once that he was dangling surprisingly high in the air, locked in Oikawa’s vice grip. However the Kyuuketsuki’s eyes weren’t locked on him; rather, he was staring fixedly at Yamaguchi. “Oh,” said Oikawa, smirking humorlessly, “you’re not going to have a choice.”


End file.
